Joy, Rue, and Ash
by Daedindalin
Summary: Haven is destroyed. Inquisitor Lavellan strives to rebuild at Skyhold when she receives an unexpected visit from her cousin. She brings with her a threat to Lavellan and company, as well as a past left far behind. Choices will be made, and consequences reaped. As if being Inquisitor wasn't hard enough... Ch 11 up. First Subplot complete (again).
1. The Great Hunt

**The Great Hunt**

She missed. A twig snapped as her arrow was loosed; the hart jolted to attention in alarm at the sudden sound; and she missed. Rue's jaw dropped, her usually self-assured countenance contorted into an expression of horror and disbelief as she watched the arrow whizz through the stag's ear and lodge into the tree behind it. The shocked stag reared onto its hind legs, spun around, and tore off through the dense forest.

The frantic elf leapt up from behind the moss-covered granite boulder that was her hiding spot. She scoured the immediate surroundings for a tree with sturdy branches to climb, and as her alert green eyes grazed over a familiar pair of yellow plaid trousers in the process, she discovered what had caused the sound that startled the deer.

"Damnit, Sera!" Rue cursed, ascending the tree to her immediate left.

"Shit, sorry!" The city elf grimaced while the consequences of her careless step played out before her. In an effort to salvage the hunting operation, she emerged from behind her own cover – a little tree, barely wider than her – with bow drawn. "Don't you run from us, you bastard!" she cried as she took a flustered shot. It missed the panicked stag by about a foot to its right, causing it to change course and sprint to its left, which would lead out of the woods and into the open plains.

She fired again. "Three fucking hours we've spent trackin' your arse! Get _back_ here!" Sera's mounting frustration at each failed shot made her more inaccurate, which made her angrier.

"Give it a rest, Sera! At this point, you're just throwing away arrows!"

One last defiant arrow flew from her bow before Sera looked up at the person scolding her. Inquisitor Rue Lavellan had climbed as high as she felt the large oak tree would support her (which was, admittedly, several meters up) and was carefully noting the direction in which the stag ran before it fell out of sight over the horizon.

"It's heading north-west of here," Rue finally stated as she descended the tall oak. "If it goes out in the open fields, we'll have an easier time. So will any hungry wolves that spot it, though, so we should hurry." She swung to the ground energetically from a sturdy, low branch and approached her hunting companion, who was angrily exacting revenge on every fallen twig that was nearby.

With every stomp and _snap_ came a new, increasingly creative swear. "Lemme guess," she grunted, "We get to chase it. For three _more_ friggin' hours."

The Inquisitor chuckled and wiped her damp brow. It was more humid in the woods than it had been earlier that morning, and she was starting to feel it. "Well, hopefully it won't take _that_ long. You missed it, sure, but steering the stag out of the forest was good for us. Come on."

An audible groan came from Sera when she bent down to collect her backpack of supplies. "Cripes, I don't even know why I _came_ for this," she whined as she slung the leather bag over her shoulder. "All this work, and for what? A bit of deer meat?"

"Take it up with Josephine," Rue answered with a grin, scooping up her own supply pack. She scratched her head to remove any twigs or leaves that might have been stuck in her boyishly short, practically platinum hair until Sera trudged up beside her. "This was _her_ idea. We've got a visiting noble of Ferelden coming in a few days – Bann Parth, I think he's called."

"Ooh, I've heard of that title," said Sera thoughtfully. "Fancy, but not _too_ fancy. Hope he doesn't act bigger than his breeches."

Rue nodded. "Josephine says he's a big hunter, and serving a venison feast that the Inquisitor hunted herself could make a very good impression. It would demonstrate my competence as a leader, thus making the Inquisition look like a capable force worth allying with."

"You'd think you closin' rifts would be evidence enough." A look of disgust spread across Sera's face as the two briskly made their way through the woods. The Inquisitor shrugged in response. "I get it, though. It's stupid, but I get it. Big hats posturin' while the world falls apart. Typical shit."

After a moment's silence, she bumped the Inquisitor's shoulder with her own. "You're all right, though. Even if you _did_ lie and say this would be fun."

"No, I said it _could_ be fun." Rue nudged her companion back with a smile. "In fact, if I remember correctly, Blackwall tried to discourage you from coming along on our little hunting trip, because he _knew_ you'd hate it."

"Yeah right. All he said was 'we're spendin' a lot of time outdoors'." Sera scoffed and twirled her finger in the air sarcastically. "Big deal. I mean, we do that anyway when we go to mop up Coryphy-tit's mess. He didn't say nothin' to me about playin' a three-hour game of hide-an'-friggin'-seek with a damn deer."

"You could have stayed and done the fishing instead of Blackwall."

"I dunno how to fish!"

"You don't know how to _hunt,_ either," Rue muttered under her breath.

Sera, ignoring the Inquisitor's comment, sighed and shook her head. "All this outdoorsy crap, with the rain, bugs, an' _humidity…_ I dunno how you dalish folk _do_ it."

* * *

Sera complained on and off about their predicament and her boredom until they reached the edge of the forest. The early afternoon sun shone brightly overhead, illuminating the small green valley before them; the summer air was fresh and cool, and the young hunters took a deep, appreciative breath as a soft breeze wafted by.

Rue stretched out her arms to let the air better penetrate her lavender hunting coat and cool her off. She dressed in as practical a manner as possible for the weather, wearing only a simple linen tunic and brown trousers under her jacket, but she still felt like a bag of sweat after the hours spent in the humid woods.

While Sera sat down in the shade for a rest and a bite of jerky from her backpack, Rue took the moment of peace to pace about and fiddle with a rotating spinner ring on the thumb of her right hand. It had an outer border of red gold and an inner band of silver, and had seen much use in its time with Rue. It made a delicate _clink-clink_ with every spin she made on the silver band, helping her to better contemplate their current position and the possible location of their quarry.

 _This was the direction it went_ , she thought as she surveyed the valley. She ground her boot into the earthy floor, still rotating the ring. "It's soft here. If he ran through, he'd make tracks," she muttered to herself.

"Wassat?" Sera had been etching pictures in the soft soil with her finger (the most thorough drawing was of a cross-eyed deer with several arrows in its rump) and only faintly heard the Inquisitor's murmurs.

"Tracks. Help me find them." This statement earned an unexpected fit of giggles from Sera. Rue turned to her, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Like these?" Barely able to contain herself, she pointed to the cloven hoof marks imprinted in the ground before her.

Rue slapped her forehead with her palm. "You've been sitting on the tracks for five whole minutes and you didn't _say anything?_ "

"I was waitin' for our fair Lady Inquisitor to work her _trackin' magic_ ," Sera playfully answered, wiggling her fingers at the end of her sentence.

The Inquisitor thought of making a record of how many times she'd shaken her head at Sera that day as she noted the direction of the hoof prints. They seemed to lead straight into a neighboring rocky pass near one of the great many hills that inhabited the lower slopes of the Frostback Mountains. This put her on edge, since there were plenty of hiding places behind those rocks; not only for wildlife, but for bandits as well. The Inquisition's campsite was several kilometers away, so there was no going back for Blackwall without admitting defeat for the day. Rue relayed the information.

"Well, we came _this_ far," said Sera, standing up and brushing bits of jerky from her red tunic. "Might as well go get that damn deer. We're quiet – _most_ of the time, anyway – so we should have no problems. If things go tits up, we'll just turn 'round and run, yeah?"

Resolved to finish what they started, the two rogues marched toward the rocky pass. It didn't take long for Sera to get bored again, though, so she began to tell a story of the time she put herbal laxatives into the tea of a baroness who was rather abusive to her kitchen staff. She was just getting to what she called "the best part" when she stopped in her tracks.

"D'you hear that?"

It was barely audible at their distance, but distinct. Rue heard the sound of hissing, followed by snapping and crunching. Before she could say anything, a jolt of pins and needles shot through her left hand as her mark sparked bright green in color. A fade rift was nearby.

"Behind the rocks," Rue whispered urgently, indicating the boulders ahead.

They moved with greater stealth than before, keeping low and light on their feet. The sound grew louder as they drew nearer, and Rue could see a faint green light emanating from behind one of the taller rocks. The sound was that of chomping and chewing, of demons feasting. The elves positioned themselves behind a low boulder for cover, and Rue carefully peeked over to see what was in store for them.

Three large, humanoid creatures were hunched over the mutilated remains of a deer, their slender, needle-sharp claws tearing into the carcass and stuffing handfuls of dripping red meat into their gaping maws. Their grey, waxy skin was stretched tight on thin bones and muscle, and the parts of the face that weren't obscured by tattered robes mimicked that of a decomposed corpse. The things had the face of a human, but no nose or lips; only slits where nostrils would be, and rows of long, jagged teeth that jutted from blackened gums. The ominous glow of the crystalized fade rift loomed behind as they greedily packed their mouths with gobs of flesh and bone.

"Ulgh!" Sera exclaimed in disgust, clearly regretting her decision to sneak a peek herself. "Don't tell me that's _our_ deer." She gave a pained look, identifying the big hole that Rue had made in its ear mere hours ago. All that time spent chasing it, only for a pack of demons to eat it instead.

Rue was fuming. She watched as her stag was devoured by those… _things_. She thought of all the time spent tracking it; of dragging Sera through the sweltering woods and her subsequent whining; of having not eaten since breakfast at dawn that morning; of every other little thing that had gone wrong since she woke up. Something inside her snapped.

"Those sons of bitches!" she hissed, balling her hands into fists atop the boulder.

"What kind of demons _are_ they, anyway?"

"Doesn't matter. They're dead," the Inquisitor snarled through gritted teeth as she ripped two daggers – one with a jet black blade made of onyx and the other rusty red and made from drakestone – from their sheaths on her back.

"Whoa! Hold a tick!" Exclaimed Sera, grabbing her firmly by the arm. "Normally I'm all for chargin' in, arrows flyin', but we don't even know what these things _are!_ "

"That's _our deer!_ " Rue spoke louder than she had intended, yet the demons on the other side of the boulder seemed oblivious. "I've diligently tracked it all morning, and these bastards think they can just swoop in and _eat it in front of me?_ No. Dead." She then stared at her daggers intently. "Pepper, Paprika…It's time for vengeance." She turned her gaze back to Sera, ignoring her raised eyebrows at the unusual burst of rage. "I'm taking them. You've got my back?"

Sera nodded, dropping her backpack and readying her bow. "Ready when you are, Boss."

Rue nodded and crept around to the other side of the boulder. The skeletal demons continued to feast while she – cloaked in shadow, despite the daylight – slinked with the silence of a practiced assassin toward the creature in the middle. She readied her blades that she dubbed Pepper and Paprika, and as the gluttonous demon raised its head to swallow, threw her arms around its neck and severed its head with a swift slice. The demon dissolved into the rift before its body could fall to the floor, and Rue became visible to the previously unaware monsters.

Their mouths dripped with the blood of their prey as they hissed in surprise at Rue's arrival. Before they could move, however, Sera leapt atop a rock behind them and peppered the skeletal monsters with two arrows each, screaming, "Eat it, ya sick sacks o' deer guts!"

The demons became panicked, their tattered robes flailing as they shrieked and writhed in pain. Wasting no time, Rue spun around and thrust her marked hand at the looming green rift in the sky. Once she ripped it open, the grey skeletal figures crumpled to the ground, weakened. She watched as Sera loosed an arrow precisely between the eyes of the twitching demon to her left, sending it into the Fade as well.

The final demon was felled with two blades ripping its back open from its boney shoulder blades to the base of its spine. After all three creatures returned to the Fade, Rue raised her marked hand to the rift once more, and with the clenching of her fist, she slammed it shut.

For the next few seconds, only heavy breathing permeated the silence until Rue slid her daggers back into their sheaths, and Sera let out a loud sigh. "Hoo! That could've gone worse."

"Yeah," replied Rue, "I'm glad to see you got your accuracy back, though."

"Shut it, you!" Sera pursed her lips in displeasure, until she saw Rue staring mournfully at the eviscerated remains of the stag they had been chasing. "It's all right, Inquisitor," she said in an immediate change of tone. "We can always go huntin' again, and I'm sure Blackwall caught all kinds of fish to serve to good ol' Bann What's-his-face, right?" She flashed the Inquisitor a wide, cheesy grin in an effort to cheer her up.

Appreciating Sera's encouragement, Rue smiled weakly in response. "Yeah. You're right. The day was such a waste, though." She shook her head in disappointment and went to retrieve her and Sera's bags of supplies from behind the boulder they had used as a hiding place. "Come on, lets head ba—"

Rue's words caught in her mouth when she looked up. She dropped her jaw as well as the two leather backpacks. There was no way this was real. It couldn't be. There, on a grassy knoll ahead, munching contently on a patch of dandelions, was a large, brown stag.

* * *

Blackwall was at a loss for words when he saw Rue and Sera stumble into camp at dusk. He had been tending to three large bass roasting on the open camp fire, and was just about to sprinkle some rosemary and thyme that he had gathered and crushed himself when the elves shambled into view. They were hauling a long, thick tree branch between them; the body of a full-grown stag, its ankles bound to the branch, swayed back and forth as they marched.

"Maker's balls! Are you two all right?"

The deer's body hit the ground with a _thunk._ Sera crumpled to the floor and sprawled her limbs out with an obnoxiously loud sigh. Rue nursed the sore shoulder that had carried the weight of the carcass.

"Stupid…fucking… _deer!_ " Sera cried from the ground. "Whatever mead's in the storage tent, bring it out, 'cause I'm drinkin' this day gone!"

Blackwall helped Rue bundle the carcass in a thick canvas tarp. She told him of the day's events, and he listened in amusement until she mentioned the encounter with the unknown demons.

"I can only guess that they were demons of hunger. I've never seen ones that do what they did to that animal." Rue furrowed her brows in contemplation as she tightened the knot securing the tarp.

"I should have been with you," muttered Blackwall beside her as he fastened the rope on his end. "The fishing could've waited, and with things being the way they are…"

"We handled it," Rue answered confidently. "They weren't half as troublesome as we thought they might have been."

"All the same, My Lady," Blackwall looked at her with a serious expression, "if something happened to you, I—we…well, the Inquisition would fall apart."

"Blackwall…" Rue smiled at him warmly. "You needn't worry about me." Feeling bold, she placed a slender, reassuring hand on his.

"My lady…"

"You two are takin' an awful longtime over there," Sera called from beside the camp fire, emphasizing the words "awful" and "long". She had retrieved three bottles of mead from one of the tents and was uncorking all of them. "If ya don't hurry up, I'm gonna eat these fish by myself!" She didn't say anything beyond that, but Rue could see Sera's knowing grin in the firelight.

They both chuckled and straightened up. Rue was slightly reluctant to take her hand from Blackwall's, but once she remembered that she hadn't eaten since breakfast, she suddenly felt much hungrier than before.

* * *

The sun had sunk behind the horizon, and the evening's first stars dimly twinkled in the twilight sky by the time the last of dinner's bones had been discarded into the fire. Sera filled three goblets to the brim with mead and handed two to Rue and Blackwall, sitting on the ground beside them. In the roaring light of the campfire, she heartily raised her cup. "Here, to a piss-poor day endin'…not so piss poor!"

The other two raised their goblets enthusiastically with cheers in agreement. After their toast, Sera jokingly asked Blackwall to regale them with his "thrilling fishing excursion" while Rue listened, spinning the silver band on her ring and taking several more swigs from her goblet.

"Saw you playin' with that earlier," Said Sera after a few minutes, pointing at the Inquisitor's thumb. "What's the story with it? Gift? Stolen? Promise to a lover to keep your legs crossed?" Blackwall grunted louder than he meant to at Sera's last suggestion, causing her to cackle impishly.

Rue laughed as well. "Gift," she answered, taking another drink. "From my cousin while she was in the Circle of Montsimmard."

"Whoa!" Sera sat upright. "Circle? Your cousin's a _mage?_ "

"This is the first time I've ever heard you talk about your family," Blackwall added. "Since you're dalish and all, this seems like a privilege." He smiled at her, and she at him.

"Well, it never really came up, now, did it? But yes, Alassiel's a mage."

"Now _there's_ an elfy name if I ever heard one. _Alassiel._ " Sera laughed at the way she pronounced the name, nearly falling onto her back.

Blackwall sidled closer to Rue in order to get a better look at the ring. Simply being in closer proximity didn't hurt him, either. "So…not to feed stereotypes, but is it enchanted?"

Rue was amused by the question. "Actually, yes. Alassiel imbued it herself. A Ring of Focus, as it turns out. Not that she could tell me that in her letter, of course. She simply said that it would bring me luck and help me to concentrate. It wasn't until later that I learned just how _much_ it helped me concentrate; my aim and precision had never been this good before. It doesn't hurt that I can now read all of Josephine's reports without falling asleep."

"So what you're sayin' is that you're really a big, fat cheater," Sera taunted, pouring herself another full cup of mead. "So, Ali-lassie. She got the same white-ass hair you do?"

"It's not _white!_ " Rue objected, causing a minor spill from her goblet as she pointed at her own head. "But yes, the hair runs in our family. Light hair, light skin, burn easy in the sun…And it's _Al-AH-ssee-el._ "

"Whatever," retorted Sera flippantly. "Ya shouldn't be givin' your kids such complicated names."

"There's actually a funny story behind that one," said Rue, trying and failing to contain a chuckle. "See, when Alassiel was born, she was quite long. Everyone thought for sure that she'd grow into a tall, strong scout one day – like her mother – so they named her Bellasiel, which means 'strength'. I'm two years older than her, so it had fallen on me to mentor her as we grew up. I took to the bow and daggers really well at a young age, but Bellasiel, well…"

"Wasn't the sharpest dagger on the belt?" Sera snorted into her cup.

"She wasn't actually dim, mind you, but my aunt and uncle were concerned. She was distracted most of the time, and often spoke of friends that no one else could see and how she would meet them in her dreams. All the signs were there, but we simply didn't see it. That is, until one day when she came to me with a 'trick' she wanted to show."

"Oh, no," Blackwall grimaced.

"Oh, _yes_ ," Rue sighed. "She took me into her room and made it _snow_. Ice magic, of all things. Well, there went Auntie and Uncle's dream of Bellasiel following in her mother's footsteps. So, they made a decision: 'At least our child is a sweet and happy one, so let's name her _Alassiel_ instead.' Yes, at the age of _seven_ _,_ let's rename our child 'joyful one'."

"Why was the name change so important?" asked Blackwall as he refilled his goblet.

"Family tradition. Like our vallaslin." Rue indicated the tattoos that ran like deep green branches under her eyes and fanned out at her ears and temples. They rather resembled deer antlers. "When dalish children come of age, they receive their blood markings from their clan's keeper. I think in most dalish clans, the individual elf selects a deity whose markings they'll bear. For us, though, it's a family thing; families have patron deities and generally all get the same blood marking. Ours is that of Mythal, for example."

"Ugh, I'm learnin' _way_ more 'bout this dalish shit than I ever wanted," Sera interjected, deep in her cups at this point. "Ain't this supposed to be secret stuff, anyway?"

Rue laughed. "I trust you two to keep my secrets. If you tell anyone, I'll just have to _kill you._ " She gave a look of mock-intensity.

"Your name seems a bit different, then," said Blackwall, interested in her history. "'Rue' doesn't exactly sound elvish."

"Ah, yes. You'd be correct." Rue admitted. "I changed it when the…when the Templars came for my cousin." Her sigh was pained. How would she tell the rest of the story?

Blackwall seemed to realize that they were heading into sensitive territory. "We don't have to talk about—"

"What happened?" Sera interrupted Blackwall, much to his displeasure.

Rue shook her head, contemplating the right words to say. "Dalish elves don't join circles. They live as apostates in our clans and are taught to control their powers by our keepers. As long as our people aren't freely casting magic in front of humans, no one can touch them. Well, it was the day right after Alassiel turned ten and received her vallaslin; we were trading with a group of merchants when one of them caught her freezing a small pond so she could skate around on it."

She gritted her teeth angrily, staring down at her empty cup. "And those…damn those Templars…why'd they have to be _there?_ They couldn't wait to demand that Alassiel be given to them so they could lock her away in a tower. And our keeper, to avoid a skirmish right then and there, just… _gave her up._ No one fought back against the demand; no one. Not the keeper, not my aunt or uncle… _No one_."

Blackwall and Sera were completely silent now. Hardship and loss claimed nearly everyone in the Inquisition, but this was the first time they had heard of any of it from their inquisitor. "I was able to say good-bye before they took her. When I hugged her, I told her to look for letters from Rue, since I knew she wouldn't be able to contact any of her family once in a circle. And so my name was changed. I all but disowned my clan after that.

"Sorry," Rue said abruptly, rolling her shoulders as though she were shaking off the heavy feelings, "I guess it wasn't a very funny story after all."

"No need to apologize to us," said Blackwall. "We all need to share our burdens once in a while. You're no exception."

"Where's Ala…lassie—where's your cousin now?" Sera asked.

"Honestly…we don't know. When the mage rebellion started, we hoped that she would come home. We never saw her, though, and I never got any more letters. That was the other reason I was at the Conclave: To see if Alassiel was among the mages." Rue remembered the violent eruption at the Conclave; the destruction, the burning bodies. She shuddered. "Now I'm hoping against hope that she wasn't there."

"Perhaps you could see about using some of the Inquisition's resources to locate her?" Blackwall suggested, scratching his thick, black beard.

Rue looked at him, a spark of initiative growing in her bright green eyes. "Yeah, perhaps I will. It would be good to know what happened to her, for closure's sake. I'll speak to Leliana when we get back." She then placed a grateful hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Blackwall."

After a few moments, Sera suddenly leapt from her seat, stumbling backwards slightly. "Good, now we've got a plan of action!" she slurred loudly. "But…I'm glad it's waitin' 'til tomorrow, 'cause I think it may be sleepy time now…eh? So, Blackwall, Rue—wait, no…Inky! Heh, heh, Inky-Rue…See ya when the sun's out!" With that, she shambled into a nearby tent. A loud _thud_ followed by immediate, audible snores let Rue know that Sera had passed out.

She and Blackwall sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the embers before them. The campfire had burned low and was only faintly licking the remains of the fire wood. "Well," Rue finally spoke, "All-in-all, I had a great evening. Thank you for listening to me."

"Will you be all right?" he asked, taking her hand in his reassuringly.

Rue stared into Blackwall's icy-blue eyes and leaned in closer. "It's good to know you care," she whispered.

With his other hand, he softly ran his fingers through her cropped blonde hair before caressing her cheek. "I care for you greatly, My Lady."

"You can call me 'Rue' when we're together…"

It was as if his senses had suddenly slapped him straight in the face at her words. "No," Blackwall replied abruptly as he sharply pulled his hands away. His expression was pained, yet he stood and slowly made his way to his tent. He turned back to Rue before ducking out of sight. "I can't, My Lady. _We_ can't."

"Blackwall…" Rue's heart felt heavy at Blackwall's words. To be so bound by duty that one would not allow for even a moment of happiness? She didn't understand. She would respect his decision, however, despite her resentment for the circumstances that surrounded it. Sighing sadly, she at last stood and turned herself in for the night.

As she lay back on her cot, her head sinking into her soft feather pillow, she allowed her mind to flit from Blackwall to pondering the next day's challenges. They would have to tear down the campsite at dawn, haul the equipment – and the large stag carcass – across the Southern Frostback Mountains and back to Skyhold, and finally, she would speak to Leliana about locating Alassiel. Yes, tomorrow was going to be busy.

Rue simply didn't realize _how_ busy it would be.


	2. The Unexpected Visitor

**The Unexpected Visitor**

Rue was woken from her heavy sleep by the sound of fingernails daintily scraping the entrance fold of her canvas tent. She groaned and rolled over, throwing her soft wool blanket over her head in protest.

"I'm wa-a-a-aiting!" sang a soft, familiar voice on the other side of the tent.

More guttural noises came from Rue. She refused to leave the seductive comfort of her bed and tightly curled up under the covers, trapping the air around her like a fortress of warmth.

"Come _on!_ " The voice was less patient now. "The sun's coming up. It's time to go!"

Rue could hear the sound of little fingers fumbling with the knots that held the entrance of the tent shut. She snorted. " _Really?_ " were her thoughts as light footsteps were heard upon the ornate carpets that covered the floor of her pavilion. Stealth was clearly being attempted here, but implementation was left wanting. She readied herself.

Right when the creeping sound stopped at the edge of her bed, Rue pounced. She threw her arms around Alassiel's tiny frame and yanked her into bed. Cackling in triumph, she proceeded to tickle her cousin into submission, little legs flailing and kicking uncontrollably as a result. Once Alassiel's laughter reached a pitch that threatened to wake others in the camp, Rue ceased the relentless assault, allowing the eight-year-old to breathe.

"You are the worst sneaker in existence," she scolded with a grin, sitting up and dangling her slender legs off the edge of the bed.

"That's not a word," Alassiel argued through gasps of air as she too sat up and brushed her long, pale blonde hair out of her eyes.

"It is now."

The little elf pursed her lips in displeasure for all of two seconds before remembering why she came. "I have Papa's fishing rods outside; they're all strung up and ready for us." Her big, deep-blue eyes shone with excitement. She rocked back and forth on the bed as though her little body couldn't properly contain the energy within.

Rue yawned and stretched her arms to the ceiling. "You _really_ want to go, don't you?"

"Yes!" Alassiel replied as though her older cousin had just asked the dumbest question ever. "You promised you would take me this morning since I couldn't go with you and Papa last time."

She was hanging on Rue's arm at that point, who sighed and pulled her elbow free. "Fine, you win." She jumped off of the bed and opened a large trunk on the other side of the tent. "Just let me get dressed." No sooner had Rue finished her sentence than Alassiel disappeared from the tent in a flash of blonde locks and happy squeals.

With each carrying a simple fishing rod and Rue in charge of the breakfast basket, the two set off for a small pond near their clan's current encampment. They had resolved to look for worms when they got there. Rue was still trying to shake off the last remnants of sleepiness when Alassiel spoke up.

"How does your vallaslin feel?"

Shifting the basket to the other hand, Rue touched the deep green blood markings on her temple. She hadn't given it much thought that morning; it didn't hurt so much anymore, which was a relief, since it hurt like hell the entirety of the day before. "It feels fine now. A lot better than when I got it two days ago."

"That's good to hear. I hope I can be just as tough when I get mine."

"You've still got two more years to worry about that. For now, let's think about catching some fish," Rue pat her cousin on the back reassuringly, which caused her to produce a small smile.

The morning sun had gotten stronger by this time and shone through the trees of the sparse forest. The sky slowly became a more brilliant blue as the mist gradually dissolved. Rue spent the next few minutes venting about how miserable she was the day before, having to hunt for pheasants while her face burned from the newly imprinted ink. She stopped talking, however, when she realized that she didn't hear an extra pair of feet beside or behind her anymore.

Turning around, she saw Alassiel had stopped walking about four meters back, staring at something off to her left. "Are you all right?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

Alassiel slowly looked back at Rue with a rather blank expression. It was a familiar look, one she often made before speaking of things she saw that no one else did. Before it was discovered that she had magical talent, Alassiel's behavior had been chalked up to having "imaginary friends", but now the Keeper believed that she was most likely seeing ghosts or spirits. Sure enough…

"Someone's here," she practically whispered.

The statement sent chills up Rue's spine as her eight-year-old cousin returned to gazing intently at something in a small clearing nearby. Rue couldn't see anything, which didn't help the feeling of dread she had in her gut. Then, as though beckoned by the invisible force, Alassiel took one slow step forward. Then another.

Horrified, Rue dropped the basket of breakfast biscuits, causing them to spill everywhere, and ran to stop her cousin. She kept the fishing rod firmly in her right hand in case she needed a weapon. "Alassiel! Wait!" As she drew closer to her cousin, her skin began to tingle faintly, as though something chilled in the air were pressing against her. Something was very wrong.

Suddenly, the air became so thick that she felt as though she had fallen into a pit of syrup; it was difficult to breathe, and even more difficult to move. She was less than a meter from Alassiel, and yet she could get no closer. Her heart pounded in terror as she watched her cousin continue to walk away, seemingly unimpeded and unaware that Rue was right behind her. She tried to call her name again, but no words came out.

Fog began to cloud her vision and surround her, as though some force were trying to obscure and separate Alassiel from her. Before the fog could completely engulf her cousin, Rue heard a faint mutter, "I don't think you're supposed to be here…"

Mustering every last ounce of strength she had, Rue took a deep breath and managed to force one word from her mouth in a shrill scream.

" _ALASSIEL!_ "

"…Rue?" came a feeble voice from somewhere, seemingly all around. It was a woman's voice. "Rue…I—I can't…I…need help…"

"Rue…Rue? Hey, Inquisitor! Snap out of it!" Sera was shaking Rue hard, desperately trying to get her attention. She gasped as she was forced back into the present and looked around in confusion.

She, Sera, and Blackwall were standing on a well-trodden path in the middle of a large, thick forest of evergreen trees, the mighty fortress of Skyhold visible in the distance. Just another hour of uphill trudging and they would be home. Rue remembered their day-long journey back from the lower slopes of the Frostback Mountains, but recent events were hazy and all but forgotten.

Sera let go of her shoulders and sighed in relief. "You scared us for a minute there, y'know?"

Blackwall approached her with a full waterskin, concern painted all over his face. "You just…stopped walkingand began to spin your ring," he said, handing the container of water to her. "Drink it. You're as pale as the snow right now."

Rue slowly uncorked the waterskin and brought the opening to her mouth. As she drank, she thought back to what she had just seen. "I…I had a memory of my cousin when we were children," she muttered, handing the waterskin back to Blackwall.

"Your cousin?" repeated Sera. "The mage?"

"Yes," Rue answered. "The sooner we get back, the better. I need to speak with Leliana."

"You think your cousin could be in trouble?" asked Blackwall as the three set off toward Skyhold once more.

"I'm not sure, but I'll feel a lot better once I know where she is." Rue stared down at the ring on her thumb. Did it have something to do with what she saw? She only vaguely remembered spinning it with her index finger before seeing the vivid daydream, the product of a distant memory. The end of the events strayed a bit from her actual recollection of that day, but it had still felt like she was ten years old again and in the forests of the northern Free Marches. That voice, though; who had that been? It sounded familiar, yet different…

"I dunno, that was too damn creepy. You should throw that thing away." Sera also eyed the ring, but with suspicion rather than curiosity. "Somethin' that can pull you out of reality shouldn't fit on a finger."

"It's never done that before, though," said Rue, her eyebrows furrowed, "and I'm not going to throw away my only connection to Alassiel. Let's just get home."

* * *

Even in the summer, the mountain air was crisp and cool. It wafted by Rue and her companions as they marched across the grand bridge to Skyhold, and they let out a collective sigh of contentment; lugging camping gear and a hundred and fifty pound stag for several kilometers would make anyone sweaty and tired (and maybe a bit irritable).

The Inquisition soldiers had been running their late-morning drills when Rue passed the large gate. They would drop to the ground to do five pushups, hop back to their feet for ten Jumping Jacks, then repeat the process. The amount of repetitions required was strictly at the mercy of Cullen and Cassandra, who could be seen prowling around the platoon of soldiers like hungry tigers. At the sight of the Inquisitor, however, they both straightened up.

" _Inquisition_! _Attention!_ " Cassandra barked intensely.

The men and women on the ground scrambled as quickly as they could to their feet and stood rigid. Like the well-rehearsed army they were, they mimicked Cassandra and Commander Cullen as they respectfully saluted with their right fist over their heart. Rue saluted in turn, then waved for them to carry on with their day. Cullen grinned and turned to the platoon, commanding the recruits to run ten laps around the entire courtyard.

While the commander pursued the troops, Seeker Cassandra approached the Inquisitor, her hands crossed cordially behind her back. "Did you have a nice trip?" asked the tall black-haired woman with a knowing smile, looking over Rue's flushed complexion and the group's dirt-caked clothes.

"Could have been worse," Rue answered, scratching her head. "I would kill for a warm bath, though."

"I'm sure Joesphine will see that one is drawn up for you, murder-free," said Cassandra with a mild chuckle.

"Is there a place we wanna put this dead-ass deer, or…" Sera and Blackwall had been sharing the load of the deer carcass for the last kilometer or so of travel, and the city elf was beginning to slouch under the weight. She stared at the wrapped up carcass with contempt.

"The cellar would be the best place," Cassandra answered. "It's cold enough in there to keep the meat fresh."

"Great! Now, who wants to carry it? 'Cause I'm done luggin' it around," said Sera, shifting like she was ready to take the weight off of her shoulder. No one was sure if she was joking or not.

"You _cannot_ be serious." Cassandra folded her arms impatiently, incredulous at Sera's apparent laziness. "You carried it all the way here, and now you're telling me you can't handle a few more—"

"I can help." A soft voice behind Cassandra cut her off, which made her twitch in alarm. Cole, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, emerged from behind the seeker and strode toward Sera. She became visibly distressed as he stared at her from under is large, floppy hat. It was no secret that he made her nervous. "Your body hurts, but I can take the weight for you. I can help."

"S-sure. Fine. Whatever," said Sera, her face that of one who had just seen a snake slither across their shoes.

"Hold on now," objected Blackwall, looking back at Sera. "Just look at him! The boy's built like a dry twig! Can he even handle the weight?"

"Yes," Cole answered bluntly, waiting for Sera to pass him the lower half the deer.

Everyone watched with baited breath as Sera hesitantly shifted the weight from her shoulder to the thin, young man's, expecting him to drop like a sack of potatoes. Surprisingly, however, he stood tall and stable, and the two were able to set off toward the lower chambers of Skyhold. A sigh of relief could be heard from Blackwall as they left.

Sera pranced away before Cassandra could try to scold her for shucking off a task like she did, and Rue decided to head to Skyhold's rookery where Leliana tended to reside before asking Josephine about a bath. She wanted to start a search for Alassiel before it slipped her mind.

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra called and rushed to the upper courtyard to catch up to Rue. "Pardon me, but there _is_ a matter that requires your attention. I meant to bring it up as soon as you returned."

"Oh?" Rue raised her eyebrows, intrigued.

"A woman arrived here mere hours before you did. An elf. Dalish, in fact."

"Okay, what did she—"

"She claims to be your _cousin,_ Inquisitor."

Rue's jaw dropped. "Come again?"

Cassandra nodded with certainty at what she had said. "We weren't sure of the validity of this claim, of course, so we have her waiting in the Ambassador's office. She said her name was—"

"Alassiel?"

The Seeker was taken aback. "Yes, Inquisitor. Could she be who she says she is?"

"I guess we'll see, won't we?" Rue spoke calmly enough, but her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. What did this mean? Two nights ago, she had merely spoken of Alassiel. Then the daydream, and now…Could she really be waiting for her upstairs, in the Ambassador's office?

"One more thing, Inquisitor," said Cassandra as she followed Rue up the stairs to Skyhold's main tower. "We had to confiscate a staff that she brought with her. I was wondering if your cousin was an apostate."

"What? No! She studied in the Circle of Montsimmard in Orlais—well, before the mage rebellion happened, anyway." Rue was now hurrying up the stairs with Cassandra in tow. She had to see for herself, had to know for sure. She stormed through the great hall, past the towers of support beams and the chattering nobles, falling deaf to any greetings she received on her way to Josephine's office. In the middle of the hall, she turned left, forcefully pushed open the first door, grabbed the handle of the second door and…froze.

Her breath caught in her chest as a thousand thoughts hit her at once. She hadn't seen her cousin in ten years. Not since the Templars took her away. Would she recognize her? What would she say? What if it wasn't even really her?

Rue stood there for what felt like several minutes, paralyzed with doubt, until she felt a firm yet reassuring hand grip her shoulder. Cassandra was standing beside her, her normally fierce brown eyes uncharacteristically warm and comforting. She said nothing, but her expression spoke volumes of her understanding of Rue's feelings. Cassandra had known the love and loss of family before, and her silent encouragement gave Rue the fortitude she needed to slowly turn the handle and push the door open.

There, on the other end of the large office, a slender figure stared quizzically at one of the bookshelves, apparently reading the titles on the spines of the various books upon it. Rue noticed her hair first; the pale golden strands, a feature shared among all members of Rue's family, now cut quite short, hanging above her shoulders in a well-kempt bob.

The circle must have taken good care of her; the rich crimson, long-sleeved blouse that buttoned up to her throat appeared to be made of silk velvet, and her black skirt that fell below her knees had delicate gold trimming. Rue didn't know much about fashion, but she had heard from Vivienne that black stockings could be very expensive, as could black silk slippers. As soon as she laid eyes on Alassiel, she turned from the bookshelf and smiled, her deep blue eyes matching the color of the vallaslin that branched from under her eyes to her temples and disappeared under her brow-length bangs. At that moment, Rue had forgotten that she was the Inquisitor, that they were in the middle of nowhere in the Frostback Mountains, that Cassandra was right behind her, everything.

"Hello, Rue," said Alassiel warmly, her voice soft and delicate.

Rue lost it. She was so overcome with emotion that she ran across the room with tears in her eyes and embraced her cousin tightly. She wanted to let herself go completely and just wail as loud as she could, but was able to keep her sense of mind enough to hold it in. "I'm so glad you're safe," she finally managed to utter in as stable a voice as she could.

"I'm so glad I _found_ you," answered Alassiel as she rested her head on Rue's shoulder.

Rue held her cousin for some time, at least until she realized that she could smell the earth on her hunting jacket and quickly pulled herself away. "Oh, gods! I just remembered how filthy I am. I don't want to get anything on your clothes—those look expensive!" She laughed in embarrassment and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Alassiel giggled. "I don't think you got anything on me," she said reassuringly, not even bothering to look down at herself.

"Come, then. I'm sure we've got a spare guest room for you to stay in, and I can only imagine what you've been through to get here." Rue excitedly ushered her cousin out of the office and into the great hall. Cassandra followed behind them. "Oh, Cassandra! Can we have Alassiel's staff returned?"

"I'll see that it is brought to her," the seeker answered, amused by Rue's unusually frantic behavior. She then grabbed Rue firmly by the shoulder, causing her to spin around. "You should go clean up, Inquisitor. I will see to it that Mistress Lavellan is given a room in the meantime."

Rue began to object when Alassiel said, "I really don't mind, Rue. We've been apart for ten years; I can handle an hour to myself."

At Cassandra and Alassiel's insistence, Rue reluctantly agreed to take a quick bath. She promised she would be in and out as fast as she could. "You'll do no such thing," her cousin objected. "You'll take as much time as is necessary to be clean and relaxed. I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Rue rolled her eyes and continued to her chambers. "She sounds a lot like Vivienne now," she muttered to herself.

It was while she was soaking in the hot water of her private basin, alone with her thoughts, that Rue had a niggling feeling in the back of her mind. She thought back to earlier that morning when she was lost in her vivid daydream, the voice she had heard before Sera shook her back to reality.

" _Rue…I—I can't…I…need help…_ "

There was no mistake. It was Alassiel's voice.


	3. The Red Doll

**The Red Doll**

The rhythmic sound of a hammer tapping a chisel into soft wood filled the barn as Blackwall carefully carved away excess chunks from his sculpture atop the workbench. To Rue, it currently resembled a blocky chicken with a weepy eye, though she was certain that was not what Blackwall was going for. She returned to sifting through a handful of reports from Leliana, leaning against a support pillar beside her companion's workstation and occasionally relaying to him whenever Sera had vandalized a page with an interesting doodle.

The past few days had been fairly uneventful for the inhabitants of Skyhold. Inquisitor Lavellan had spent most of her time pouring over the war table with her advisors, planning how best to expand the Inquisition's influence throughout Orlais; if they were to receive an invitation to the Winter Palace, they had to be more than a gaggle of soldiers, refugees and chantry sisters in a ruin on the Frostback Mountains.

"Ha! This one's got a picture of a noble—looks sort of like Bann Parth, to be honest—with a coronet made of phalluses."

Blackwall paused his hammering to chuckle heartily. "Well, he _was_ sort of a prick. He seemed pretty impressed with you, though. And we got some good soldiers out of his visit, didn't we?"

Rue snorted as she remembered the evening she, her advisors, and Blackwall had entertained the war-minded Bann Parth and his wife over dinner. "If I never hear the words 'Orlesian bastards' and 'back in my day' again, it'll be too soon."

The evening hadn't ended in disaster, per se, but Rue hadn't before realized how thoroughly disinterested in the history of the Orlesian occupation of Fereldan she could be. That evening, she had thanked her lucky stars that the Inquisition had Ambassador Montilyet on its side; she had kept the Bann and his wife engaged in conversation practically the entire evening and cemented an alliance between their people. Rue then made a mental note to have Leliana secretly order a selection of Josephine's favorite wines as a thank-you.

"So," said Blackwall casually as he put down his hammer and chisel and removed his black leather gloves, "how's your cousin settling in? Has she been having any problems?" He leaned against his workbench and folded his arms, his head slightly cocked in interest.

Rue set her papers on a nearby chair and stretched her arms. "Nope," she answered with a smile, "she seems to be settling in just fine. She's already memorized the layout of the fortress, and every time I've seen her, she's had a smile on her face."

"Is that right?" Blackwall asked, a layer of skepticism coating his tone.

Rue looked at him questioningly. "Why? Is there something I should know?"

Blackwall sighed and shrugged uncomfortably, clearly struggling with whether what he was about to say was any of his business. He stared up at the ceiling as if it somehow had the right words in the right sequence to use. Before he could say anything, however, a delicate voice chimed from the large barn entrance.

"There you are," said Alassiel pleasantly. She stood with such poise in her little ruby red silk dress by the worn barn door that one would think she were a noble woman entering a grand palace. After announcing her presence, she glided toward her cousin. Like most of her jewel-toned garments, it hung just below her knees, revealing those black stockings she seemed so fond of. The short heels of her crimson silk slippers clicked on the stone floor as she approached. "I've been looking all over for you." She barely acknowledged Blackwall at all, casting only a sideways glance at him before hugging Rue in greeting.

"Is everything all right?" Rue asked with a smile as she embraced her little cousin, nearly able to rest her cheek on top of Alassiel's head due to standing half a head taller than her.

Alassiel was quiet as she pulled away from the hug and looked up at Rue thoughtfully. "Nearly. I was hoping I could talk with you about—" She glanced at Blackwall again, who fidgeted slightly under her gaze.

"Blackwall's all right. He can keep secrets, if you need him to," Rue assured her, stepping over and heartily patting her trusted companion on the shoulder. This knocked some flecks of wood off of his gambeson. "Oh, shit," she muttered offhandedly, realizing he was actually _covered_ in tiny woodchips and proceeding to dotingly pat them off.

Blackwall chuckled as Rue groomed him. That is, until he felt—actually _felt_ —the sharp gaze from Alassiel. He looked up in time to catch the tiniest glimpse of a stare most murderous, her deep blue eyes wide with rage, as though Rue's attention to Blackwall were an insult on her very being. The look was replaced with a placid façade so quickly that Blackwall was left with visual whiplash, wondering if he had actually seen it at all.

"Very well," said Alassiel as Rue straightened up, "I wanted to speak with you about that… _boy._ "

Rue was momentarily confused. There were a lot of _boys_ in Skyhold. "Which boy?" she asked.

"I believe he calls himself _Cole,_ " answered Alassiel, emphasizing his name in a manner that suggested skepticism.

"Oh?" she said in amusement, waiting to hear an endearing account from her cousin. She remembered how much Alassiel _loved_ talking about her encounters with friendly spirits from her dreams as a child, and—

"I would very much appreciate it if he were kept _out_ of my room," Alassiel spoke sternly, catching Rue off guard. "In fact, if he could be kept away from _me_ entirely, that would be wonderful."

"…Oh," Rue said again, less amused this time. "I'm sorry to hear that. I…would have thought that you, of all people, would find him adorable _._ "

"What would I find _adorable_ about a rogue spirit who wanders the material plain, unchecked and unsupervised?" Alassiel looked almost offended. "At best, he's a nuisance, and at worst, he's dangerous. To be honest, Rue, I'm shocked that you would let him stay here."

Rue, finally finding her voice, came to Cole's defense. "He's helped us a great deal since he's been here, Alassiel," she said with resolve. "In fact, when I first met him, he saved my life when an Envy demon tried to kill me. As far as I'm concerned, Cole can stay as long as he likes."

Alassiel was visibly disappointed with her cousin's answer. She retained her composure, however, and nodded in response. "I see."

"Give him a chance," said Rue, placing her hands on Alassiel's shoulders reassuringly. "I'm sure Montsimmard's Circle of Magi have their own opinions about spirits, but Cole's different, and he's a good kid. I _will_ talk to him about keeping out of peoples' private quarters, though. This won't be the first time I've had to do it."

Alassiel sighed and looked up at Rue. "I understand. I apologize for troubling you, cousin."

Rue found her smile again as she kissed her little cousin's forehead. "You're never trouble, Alassiel. We'll talk later, all right?" Alassiel nodded in response before turning around, giving Blackwall one more sideways glance, and sauntering out with the same poise with which she had entered.

"Well," Blackwall began once Rue's cousin was out of earshot, crossing his arms, "I take it you're not used to her acting that way."

"Not in the _slightest,_ " she responded, looking out the barn entrance with concern. "I figured life in a circle would influence her, but I never dreamed it would change her _this_ much. Perhaps I should ask Vivienne about this, maybe get some insight about Montsimmard's Circle of Magi…"

"Personally, I think you should speak with Sera as well," urged Blackwall. "She might have a few things of interest to say on this matter. I don't know your cousin well enough to draw a full opinion just yet, but if her behavior's got _you_ concerned, then it becomes a concern of mine as well."

Rue, having collected Leliana's reports from the nearby chair, approached Blackwall and placed a gentle hand on his bearded cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. She leaned in and kissed his other cheek affectionately.

"My lady," Blackwall murmured in a tone that would suggest disapproval, even though he was unable to hide the smile that crept across his face as Rue turned and sauntered toward the barn door.

She stopped at the open entrance and looked over her shoulder at the blushing Blackwall. "I'm not giving up on you!" she called, pointing. He chuckled in response and waved good-bye, and Rue set off with a whistle toward Leliana's rookery to return her reports.

* * *

"You just don't give up, do you?"

"There's a sadness inside. Sad, lost, and lonely. Longing to be loved so much that it—it _consumes,_ but…something's wrong—"

"Listen… _thing,_ I don't appreciate your constant digging inside my mind," Alassiel hissed, looking up from the large tome on the table before her. "I can tell when you're trying to do it, and it's most cumbersome to keep you out. Be gone."

"But I want to help," Cole insisted, taking his weight off of the banister that overlooked the lower study where Solas often resided with his books and paints. He approached the cherry wood table where Alassiel sat. "Rue is your cousin. Thinking about her makes you happy. Would you like to talk about her?"

Alassiel stared at Cole coldly before a wry smile spread across her lips. She shut her book and set it aside on the table. "If you insist on conversation, _Cole_ , I think I'd rather talk about you," she answered smoothly, standing up. "From what I understand, you're a spirit. One of Compassion, correct?"

"Yes," Cole answered quietly. "How did you know?"

At his answer, Alassiel slowly made her way around the table, her right hand tracing the edges of its smooth surface as she walked. "Sweet Compassion, you burn brightly with the desire to help _so many_." Her unsettling smile was still spread on her face. "Here, in the material world, you're considered human in every respect, physically. Is that also accurate?"

Cole said nothing, but tried to take a step away as she drew nearer. His back hit a bookshelf, however, and he could go no further. Alassiel was inches from him before stopping, gazing up at the boy and studying him with narrowed eyes.

"So, does that mean you also _bleed_ like a human?" She tilted her head, her teeth bared as her smile widened. "I wonder what would happen if someone put a knife in your belly and twisted it. Would everything spill out? Is there anything _to_ spill out?"

There was silence between them. The empty library made the quiet even more apparent and painful. When it became clear that Cole had nothing more to say, that her words had cut deep enough, she giggled in cheerful delight and backed away, putting on her regal airs once more. "It's just a thought, of course. I doubt anyone here would do such a thing."

Alassiel sauntered back to her chair, sat down, and opened her book once more. Cole still hadn't moved. It was as though he were trying to process what had just happened. As Alassiel skimmed the pages to return to where she had been reading, she heard the young man's voice finally break the silence. "You're wrong." By the time she had looked up, he was gone. She grinned, pleased with herself, and went back to her tome.

* * *

Rue managed to find Madame Vivienne later that day in the chantry garden. She was seated at a small table that had been brought out for her mid-afternoon tea time. When she saw the Inquisitor approaching, she smiled cordially and stood.

"What a wonderful surprise to see you, my dear. Please, have a seat with me. I would so love company on a day like this." She indicated the chair across from her and sat down after Rue.

The Inquisitor surveyed the garden with satisfaction. It had come a long way from the overgrown courtyard that it was; the grass had been trimmed, the weeds pulled and replaced with herbs and flowers both local and exotic (Josephine's touch), and stepping stones had been lain to form paths to connect the newly built and painted gazebos. At least two statues of Andraste could be seen from where Rue was sitting, and while she was not Andrastian herself (indeed, she worshipped the elven gods of her people), she recognized that many in Skyhold were. Thus, she understood the importance of having statues of Andraste for followers to dote upon.

Rue filled her lungs with the cool mountain air in the garden and sighed. "I think I can see why you like to have tea here," she stated, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun on her face.

Vivienne daintily took her porcelain teacup by the handle and brought it to her lips. "It's such a refreshing change from the stuffy stone walls of this keep. You should do it more often, my dear, before all that time pent up in the war room drives you mad." After taking a sip, she placed the cup back onto its saucer on the table.

"Vivienne, I wanted to ask you about the Circle of Magi in Montsimmard," said Rue, resisting the urge to rest her elbows on top of the small circular table. Something about Vivienne's presence triggered a sort of primal fear in Rue that she would have her knuckles rapped for bad etiquette. "Do they teach you these sort of things? Manners, speaking, posture, and all that?"

"Oh, most definitely. Montsimmard has one of the best, if not _the_ best circle in which a mage could study in southern Thedas. Apart from a superb magical curriculum, mages who study there are trained in the ways of the Grand Game: Ballroom dancing, posture, social faux pas and how to avoid it…" Vivienne prattled on in her disarmingly pleasant voice about the social conditioning one goes through in Montsimmard's circle. Rue, receiving an overload of information, felt as though her eyes were going to cross at any moment, and almost didn't hear her last sentence. "I was _so_ delighted to hear your cousin went to the same circle."

"Oh?" Rue replied in an automatic fashion while her interest continued to dwindle. It seemed as though her concerns had hit a dead end. After nearly ten years of attending the same Circle of Magi as Vivienne, how could Rue _not_ expect Alassiel to change? Her cousin was simply a different person now, with different feelings and expectations, and she would have to accept that.

"Although, and this is really for her benefit, if you could tell the darling that she didn't have to try so hard, that would be best."

These words snapped Rue out of her trance. "What do you mean?"

Vivienne raised her eyebrows. "When you've played The Game as long as I have, my dear, you pick up on certain cues from other players. Alassiel can say the right words, use the right inflections, and giggle at the right times, but it all comes off as hollow clockwork. We call these people _dolls;_ pretty little things that play The Game, but whose actions and opinions are not self-derived. One usually sees this in the children of more influential players."

"But dolls don't hurt people." Cole appeared so suddenly beside Rue that she tumbled out of her chair with a yelp. Vivienne remained unfazed, although visibly irritated at the boy's interruption.

"Can we help you, my dear, or did you just come to give the Inquisitor a heart-attack?" she inquired sharply while Rue picked her chair up and reclaimed her seat.

Cole didn't answer Vivienne, but instead turned his attention toward the Inquisitor. "I don't like her," he said with conviction. "She's cruel and cold, and hurts people when she's angry."

It took Rue a moment to realize that he wasn't referring to Vivienne. "Did something happen, Cole?" she asked with concern.

The young man fidgeted with his fingers while he collected this thoughts. "She's all wrong. There was so much fear when I first heard her. I wanted to help. But then she saw me, and I couldn't hear anymore. And even when I could, it was something else. Longing, lonely, wanting, waiting for something intangible. Then she would see me again and grow angry. She's…always angry at me."

"I know it's not your forte, my dear, but if you could _try_ to make sense…" Vivienne remarked impatiently.

"These are the thoughts you've picked up from Alassiel?" Rue asked before Cole could become distracted by Madame de Fer's icy comment.

Cole nodded, tilting his head as he watched Rue's expression become more troubled. "She didn't used to be like this," he murmured, clearly having skimmed her mind.

"Cole, we talked about rooting around in people's minds," she said quietly, standing up.

"Sorry."

Rue let out a heavy sigh and tried to shake the weight of the information off of her shoulders, her mind swirling with confusion. She couldn't let it go now. Something was wrong, and she had to figure out what it was. "Thank you both for the information," she said. "This is good to know."

Vivienne nodded politely in response. "Any time, my dear. I hope things aren't nearly as troublesome as the boy makes them out to be."

Cole said nothing in response, and simply vanished as Rue left the peaceful chantry garden.

* * *

Skyhold's tavern was lively as usual at this time of day; the sun had begun to retreat behind the Frostback Mountains' snowy peaks, signaling the end of shift for many soldiers and custodians. The stocky barkeep was rushing to take several different orders of ale at the bar, occasionally calling to his tavern maids to hurry with their drink and snack deliveries so they could come back and help him. The sound of many pairs of hurried feet knocked upon the wooden floors as the maids tried remembering who ordered what drink and how many. One such flustered young lady nearly collided into Rue as she stepped into the noisy tavern. She squeaked in shock before bowing her red head deeply and begging for her pardon, nearly spilling the four pints of mead she shared between her two hands.

Before Rue could tell her that no harm had been done, the young woman took off across the room to avoid a scolding that never would have happened in the first place. After shaking her head in resignation, Rue looked over the crowded floor and began to regret deciding to talk to Sera at this time; the noise level made her ears ring, adding to the already present headache she was experiencing.

She tried spinning the ring on her thumb to gather her thoughts and focus, but it only seemed to make the headache worse. Every clink the silver band made against the red gold borders made her wince, as though someone had put the ring directly next to her ear and spun it.

Then, to her alarm, she realized that she couldn't _stop_ spinning it. Her index finger was moving of its own accord, and the unbearable metallic sound came faster and faster. She tried to move, but every muscle in her body was frozen, all except for her right hand.

Terror struck Rue as the sound grew louder. She felt as though her head would explode if it didn't stop soon. She tried to think of something, _anything_ to snap herself out of whatever was holding her there. Then, through the horrible noise, she heard it: Voices. They were barely noticeable beyond the metal ringing, but perhaps, if she focused on them, she could make out what they were saying…

"Hey, Boss!" The gruff voice of The Iron Bull could be heard over the throng of the other tavern goers.

This distraction snapped her out of her trance, and Rue was relieved to be able to move again. When the spinning of the ring stopped, so did the horrible noise, allowing her headache to subside. She sighed in relief and took a moment to gather her wits before trotting over to the base of the stairs as nonchalantly as possible. She waved at Iron Bull and his mercenaries who were sitting in their usual corner. As this wasn't the first time her ring acted in a bizarre manner, she resolved to keep the incident to herself for the moment.

"Glad you're here!" Iron Bull called, gesturing for Rue to come closer. "We just ordered a whole keg to be brought over. Come, sit down and have a drink. Dalish has been wanting a rematch, anyway."

Rue chuckled, but shook her head. "Maybe in a bit, Bull. I need to talk to Sera, first."

"Uh-oh," said Krem, feigning a look of concern as he set down his mug. "Did they find the dummy?"

"Nah, it's about something el— _what_ dummy?" Rue suddenly narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

With a roguish grin, Krem made a motion like he had stuck a key in his mouth, locked it, and thrown it away. "You'll have to ask Sera."

Rue rolled her eyes and climbed the stairs. "I'll be back in a bit," she called down to them derisively.

She found Sera in her usual place: The second-floor storage room that overlooked the upper and lower courtyards of Skyhold. She seemed to be fussing over a large box full of measuring equipment, pulling out rulers and meter sticks, stopping to play with a drawing compass. She put it down when Rue entered.

"Your Gracious Lady-bits!" she announced with a smirk. "What brings you to my little neck o' the Skyhold? I'd have figured you'd still be down at the barn with your Blackwall."

"Oh?"

Sera cackled with delight at Rue's sad attempt at a poker face. "Oh, I know a little thing or two that happened today. I mean, it's no big deal or nothin', smooches on the cheeks and whatnot. But I know how you look at him. And Blackwall? He wants it _bad._ " Sera stretched the word out painfully, grinning an impish grin. "He just won't let himself go, though. Can't believe how tightly he clings to his armor. You just need to peel it off him, that's all."

Rue could feel her face flushing red with embarrassment. "How do you even _know_ any of this?"

"Let's just say that Leliana's not the only one with little birdies in Skyhold." Sera raised her eyebrows slyly. "Anyway, I don't think you came here just catch shite from me."

"Not really, no." Rue answered bluntly and cleared her throat. "I actually wanted to ask you about Alassiel. Blackwall said you might have some interesting things to tell me."

"Oh, your little pretty-faced cousin?" The city elf's voice went sour. She flopped down on the long sofa that spanned the wall of the side of the room that overlooked the courtyards. "D'you want the honest version or the version laced with sugar and bullshit?"

Feeling a sense of dread forming in the pit of her stomach, Rue sat beside Sera, her brows furrowed. "Tell me what you know."

"She's a bitch, Inquisitor, and a big-time one," Sera said, not missing a beat. "It's like another Vivienne strolled into Skyhold, only ten times worse. At least Vivienne would never go screamin' at the kitchen staff over dumb shit, like lukewarm tea. She's got half the little people in Skyhold scared to death of her!"

Rue's jaw was hanging open at Sera's words. Here was Sera, listing off the tavern maids, the kitchen staff, the gardeners, the floor sweepers, and many others who were scared into silence by her cousin for the most minor of offenses.

"Oh sure," Sera went on, "she's all candy, cake, and sunshine with you, but when you're not around, she's a friggin' ice queen. It's almost like she doesn't know how to interact with other people, aside from lightin' the Bitch candle."

Rue would twitch every time her cousin was called a bitch, but she knew that Sera didn't say such things without reason, and this was the third account of behavior that ranged from bizarre to downright cruel that she had heard in one day.

"I feel like there's something she's not telling me," Rue murmured to Sera. "Too many strange things have happened for this all to be a coincidence. I'm not sure what's going on yet, but I'll need to confront her about it sooner or later."

Sera shrugged. "I just told you what you wanted to know, Inquisitor. It doesn't matter to me what dirty laundry folks have; you don't treat people like that. Or at least you don't and not expect to find several dead rats beneath your pillow."

* * *

Rue said her goodbyes to Sera and shut the door behind her. Stepping out onto the second floor landing, she noticed it was fairly empty. She leaned over the railing that overlooked the tavern scene below, momentarily distracted by The Iron Bull lifting a random tavern maid over his head in what appeared to be a weight-lifting contest with Krem.

She absentmindedly put her forefinger and thumb together to spin her ring when she stopped, remembering the headache she had experienced the last time. She looked down at her right thumb. Her Ring of Focus had never caused her pain before, nor had it ever put actual, noticeable voices inside her head before that evening and the whole hallucination the week before.

 _Those voices,_ she thought. _If I spun my ring again, would I hear them? Do they have anything to do with what's going on now?_

Rue spent the next few minutes in a confused whirlpool of emotion. Was she being stupidly insecure over the whole thing, just upset that her cousin wasn't the happy-go-lucky girl that she was ten years ago? Was she completely failing to recognize that this was simply how things were, that her cousin was now a spoiled mage from a prestigious circle that she and the others in Skyhold couldn't understand?

In her state uncertainty, her index finger brushed against the spinner ring ever so slightly, and a familiar sentence wafted across her mind.

" _Rue…I—I can't…I…need help…_ "

Rue's breath caught in her chest as Alassiel's weak voice whispered in her ears. It was real. The voice was real, the distress was real. This wasn't mere personal insecurity; something was _wrong._ It was then that she was hit with a powerful resolve. Determined to hear what the voices would say, what had Cole so upset and the Skyhold staff so afraid, Rue brought her finger to the ring again, and let the ring spin.


	4. Desire

_Author's note: Hello, everyone. I just wanted to put it out there that the next chapter might be about a week late. I will be on a four-day trip (Thursday through Sunday) this weekend, and I won't have access to my computer. As I'd like to keep with the pattern of posting on Tuesdays, I'd rather give myself an extra week than open myself up to posting my chapters on random days. Thank you guys for your understanding, and please enjoy the chapter._

 **Desire**

The sun had set behind the trees of the forest, leaving streaks of deep purple and blue as the last remnants of light in the sky. The torches surrounding the Dalish camp had already been lit to combat the creeping shadows of the evening. Laughter and talk of the day's events could be heard throughout the grounds from around warm, welcoming campfires as Dalish men and women settled in with their dinner and drinks. In the center of the encampment stood a rather large pavilion with ornate tapestries hanging atop posts on either side of the entrance, the heraldry of Clan Lavellan lovingly weaved into the center of them both. This was the home of Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel.

Outside the Keeper's pavilion, a young elf aged twelve years with tousled, cropped golden blonde hair and bright green eyes crept up to the closed tent entrance, completely unheard and unseen. She edged as closely as she could to the thick tent flap and listened intently to the voices within, knowing full well what they were discussing.

"It's too dangerous. I'm sorry, Nerel."

"Please, Keeper! There's got to be another way! She's our _daughter_ , for Mythal's sake!"

The sobbing of a woman could be heard somewhere near the back of the pavilion as Uncle Nerel spoke. Aunt Sharanni was clearly in there with them, too overcome with tears to even contribute to the discussion. She had always been emotionally delicate.

"I do not have time to teach her to control her dreaming, and if she remains with that gift unchecked, it could put the entire clan in danger." Keeper Deshanna's voice became stern. "Furthermore, there are simply too many mages within our clan as it is. I've tried to make an exception for your family when her magic awoke, but this is too much."

"But—"

"What else would you have me do, Nerel? You saw how Alassiel looked when your niece carried her back to camp. If Pryswyn hadn't brought her back when she did, your daughter would be an abomination by now. I know people within the Templar order who can help. They are good men who can take her to a respectable circle; she can get an education and learn to control her gifts."

"Can we not even try to—"

"It's this or Tranquility, Nerel! And I will not have one of my own subjected to such an atrocious ordeal, nor will I simply cast her out of the clan. Listen to me, my friend. This is best for everyone."

 _Best?_ Pryswyn thought with spite as she balled her hands into fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. _Best for_ you, _maybe. Get rid of the problem child because_ you _can't handle the responsibility! Send her away so she'll be out of sight and out of mind! She's my cousin, my sister, my one and only friend, and you're giving up on her? I can't let you! I won't!_

The young elf straightened up and was about to rip open the pavilion's entrance flap when the sound of soft sobbing behind her stopped her in her tracks. Her heart caught in her throat, and she slowly turned around to see the source of the ghostly weeping. It was Alassiel. Not the ten-year-old child who was fast asleep in her parents' tent at so late an hour, but the woman she would become. She had the straight cut bangs that framed her brows and short bob, and even wore the red silk velvet blouse and black skirt with gold trim that she would own in the future, but how did Pryswyn know this?

Her head was in a fog of confusion until Alassiel spoke. "R-Rue?" she cried meekly.

The young elf gripped her head in surprise as she was hit with the sudden realization of who she was. Her name was Rue now, and she had been Rue for nearly ten years. She wasn't twelve like the size of her body would suggest, but an adult. This wasn't real; it was a vision of her past brought to her by the ring. She had been sucked into her memory so completely that she had momentarily lost her knowledge of the present.

Frightening though that realization was, the sight of her cousin crying helplessly was even more disconcerting. "Alassiel, what's happening to you?" Rue asked, taking a step toward her distraught cousin. "Tell me what's going on, please!"

"Rue, I can't—I don't have time," she stammered as fast as she could, shakily wiping her tear-streaked face with her hands. "It—it knows I'm awake! Please, don't let it take your ring! The ring keeps it out, and it knows that now. Rue, it's not—"

Alassiel suddenly gasped in shock, her eyes wide with fright, as though she had been stabbed by an unseen assailant. Immediately after, she dropped straight to the ground like a ragdoll that had been carelessly tossed aside. Horrified, Rue ran to her aid, but Alassiel's body vanished before she could reach her. Rue was left alone in the still and silent camp, her desperate panting the only sound that could be heard.

She collapsed onto her knees where her cousin fell, head spinning. _She's awake, the ring keeps "it" out…what does any of that mean?_ Rue tried to make sense of Alassiel's words, but was soon distracted by a strange realization: She was still in her memory of the past. Alarmed, she scrambled to her feet and looked about. The encampment was eerily quiet now; no owls hooting in the distance, no chirping insects, and no casual voices carrying around the campfires. Silence.

She scoured the grounds, checking inside tents and around campfires for someone— _anyone_ —but the camp was completely empty. Gazing around, she realized that the torches that lined the camp weren't flickering at all anymore, but rather frozen in place like a sculpture of flames. Rue approached one of the torches and extended her hand; it still gave off heat. "The hell is going on?" she asked out loud, half hoping for an answer.

"The memory was disrupted," said the familiar voice of a boy behind her. Rue spun around and saw Cole gazing curiously at a still campfire.

She had never been so happy to see that big, floppy hat of his in her whole life. "How did you get here?" Rue asked in disbelief as she approached him.

"I heard your pain," he admitted simply, squatting and reaching out to touch one of the flames that had frozen in mid-air. He pulled his hand back when he, like Rue, discovered that the fire was still rather hot. "It was so strange, so I came to help. Like in Therinfal. You go to strange places a lot, Rue."

Instead of responding to his last comment, the Inquisitor decided it was best to keep Cole's thoughts on track. "You said this memory was disrupted?"

He nodded, staring at her from underneath the large rim of his hat. He was, no doubt, curious about Rue's shorter, youthful form. "Spirits sculpt the Fade from thoughts and memories of people. Grown-up Alassiel didn't fit, so they were confused. That's why everyone's gone and everything's stopped." He returned his gaze to the curiously unmoving campfire. "I think she wanted that, though. She wanted you awake in your dream. She's…different here. Not like outside the Fade."

"Hold on," Rue put out her hand to interrupt Cole. "We're in the _Fade_ right now?"

"Yes. Sort of. You're dreaming now. Except you're still awake. Back in the present, I'm standing beside you and holding your hand—well, your left hand. Your right hand is spinning your ring."

It baffled Rue how one person could make so much sense and yet so little. She rubbed her temples with her fingers while she attempted to properly piece together Cole's jigsaw puzzle of sentences. "And my ring is bringing me to these points in my memory for some reason…"

"No," Cole stated bluntly, standing up, "Alassiel brought you here. Your ring just helps you focus. _She_ reached out and brought your focus here."

Rue stared up at him in surprise. "Alassiel did this? How? And how do you know?"

Without prompt or direction, Cole strode over to where Rue's cousin had been standing earlier. He brought his hands to his face and mimicked a crying motion. "I can hear her," he murmured so quietly that Rue almost didn't catch it. "Her thoughts bleed all around in this memory. There's…fear. For you, for herself." The boy went quiet for a moment and lowered his head, his half-gloved hands still covering his eyes. "Crying, calling, banging on walls that won't break. _Someone help me. Someone stop it. Rue, please…It's not me!_ "

As Cole babbled the echoes of Alassiel's thoughts, a growing feeling of dread rose in Rue's stomach. More and more, the pieces were falling into place. The pleas for help in her visions; Alassiel's radically different behavior; her insistence that Cole, a _spirit_ , be kept away from her…

"Gods, no," she whispered in horror as she gazed around the Lavellan encampment once more, seeing the quiet setting with a whole different perspective. How could she not have seen it? How could she have ignored it so thoroughly? "There was a reason she brought me here, to _this_ memory in particular. She wanted to show me—she's _been_ trying to show me since she showed up in Skyhold!"

Rue turned back to Cole, who stared at her with an expression of quiet intensity. He seemed to have made the same realization that she had. "There's a demon inside her," he said.

"We have to get out of here!" Rue's short form stormed over to the boy in a panic. "Snap me out of this, Cole! We need to find Alassiel!"

He nodded at her command and reached his hands out to either side of her head. She felt the boy's fingers gently brush her temples, and the two made sharp eye contact. He gave one more nod before whispering, " _Wake up._ " In a head rush that lasted only a blink, Rue was back in Skyhold's tavern, leaning over the second-story banister, her left hand firmly in Cole's grip.

She allowed herself only a moment to recover mentally before making her way around the walkway and down the stairs with Cole in tow. Having not fully reoriented herself to her adult body, her movements were clumsy, and she nearly fell flat on her face after tripping on the last step. She managed to save herself by grabbing onto a support pillar at the foot of the stairs.

The tavern was still packed, and The Iron Bull was still curling tavern maids as he had been earlier, indicating that time hadn't really passed at all while Rue's mind was in the Fade. She had considered calling on Iron Bull for help, but he was deep into his cups at that point (the maids seemed to be rather drunk as well), and the last thing the situation needed was the attention and panic of everyone in the building. No, Rue knew the situation would need to be handled as discreetly as possible. Straightening herself up and adjusting her lavender mercenary jacket, Rue proceeded out the door in as calm a manner as possible; their first order of business would be to locate Solas.

* * *

"You're absolutely _certain?_ Being a circle mage, she should have gone through her Harrowing, theoretically making her impervious to possession."

"I know what I saw and heard, Solas. The signs have been right in front of me the entire time she's been here, and I ignored it. I'm not sure if it knows that we know, but it _is_ aware that Alassiel is trying to fight."

"She's so scared. She begs to be free," Cole piped up while frantically pacing back and forth beside the Inquisitor. "We have to help her."

Rue and Cole had found Solas in the lower study of the tower's library, an area he claimed as his own. The rounded walls were partially coated with an elaborate fresco that the elven apostate had been painting in his spare time. It currently depicted the founding of the Inquisition, the conscription of the rogue Templars at Therinfal Redoubt, and Rue's encounter with Corypheus and Haven's subsequent destruction.

Solas, who had been sitting comfortably in his armchair with a bit of light reading for the evening, closed his volume of in-depth Chantry history and rose to his feet. "If this is the case, then we shouldn't waste any time. It may lash out if it feels that its façade is threatened." He strode with conviction from his desk in the center of the rounded room to a smaller table against the wall across from him. Leaning against it was a magnificent-looking staff made of dark polished oak wood and topped with a smooth, spherical blue jewel.

"Tell me," he said as he took his staff in his hands, "do you know what sort of demon we are dealing with?"

Rue shook her head grimly, but figured the fidgety spirit might have an inkling. "Do you have any insight for us, Cole?"

"The cellar," came a sudden whispered reply, in a tone that suggested an epiphany had just taken place.

"Come again?" she said, looking curiously beside her for an explanation. The boy was no longer by her, nor was he anywhere in the study. He had vanished as soon as he spoke. Rue put her hand to her forehead in exasperation. "Damnit Cole…Did he say 'the cellar'?"

"At a guess," said Solas as he and the Inquisitor made their hurried way out of the study and into the Great Hall, "I'd say he's discovered the whereabouts of your cousin. We must hurry; a demon that possesses a mage is likely to be a powerful one, and Cole won't be able to face it on his own."

* * *

Silent footfalls fell swiftly down flights of stone steps. Cloaked in shadow, Cole wound his way into the deep cellars of Skyhold, where the wine, ale, and spirits were stored to keep them cool. He listened intently for the angry voice he had heard earlier in Solas' study. Believing to be completely alone, Alassiel—or rather, the demon wearing her skin—left her mind wide open for him to hear. It was like listening to someone ranting loudly from another room.

Cole turned a corner into a long hallway lined with large wooden casks, each bearing a small bronze plaque detailing different flavors of whiskey and scotch, and slowed his gait to a careful crawl. At the end of the stone hallway was a closed wooden door. The demon's fuming inner voice emanated strongly from within.

 _That's why!_ That's _why! That ring is keeping me out! I should have known from the start…How could you—you little brat!_

There was a sudden sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling onto the ground, making Cole jump on the other side of the door. The demon had chucked a bottle of wine across the room in a fit of rage.

 _Your barrier keeps her from loving me—from loving_ only _me! How selfish of you…I have to take it from her. If there's no ring, there's no barrier—nothing to stop me from reaching her. I_ will _have her. She_ will _love me…_

Cole had heard enough; now he knew what he was dealing with. Inside the small stone office, the demon posing as Alassiel paced back and forth, chewing harshly on the knuckle of her right index finger in thought. Her vision was illuminated by only two small candles that flickered in the corner on a nearby desk. They cast her frantic shadow on the surrounding walls while she continued to ponder.

 _I will do it tonight, then. While she sleeps, I will take the ring. I will wait no longer. Rue, you will love me._

"Desire," murmured Cole's voice from behind her, just as she realized there was an accompanying shadow flickering upon the walls.

Alassiel's body went rigid, her hands clenching into fists so tightly that her arms shook. " _You,_ " she hissed with such spite that it was almost a whisper. She slowly turned about to face the spirit of Compassion that had hounded her for nearly the entire week she had been at Skyhold. Her usually fair and delicate features were contorted into a horrific snarl of rage. She absolutely _hated_ Cole, and he could feel it all by simply looking at her face.

His bright blue eyes never faltered, however, and he continued to gaze at the possessed young elf sharply. "Haunting and hurting, you hold this girl against her will." He pointed an accusing finger in Desire's direction, his voice sharp and cold, like bitter winter wind. "You tricked her so that you could take her body, her love for her family twisted against her, mangled to suit your whims, your wants. You would hurt people to get your way, but I won't let you."

Eyes still locked with Alassiel's, Cole carefully slid a small dagger out from its sheath on his belt. He was unsure how he would engage the demon, but he knew he couldn't let her leave, not before Rue and Solas arrived.

Before he could even make a proper defensive stance, however, Alassiel had raised a hand in his direction, and his breath caught in his chest as he felt an icy sheet cover and paralyze him. Cole's whole body was rigid from the cold, completely unable to move. The demon's expression had gone from rage to pure, sickening satisfaction when she saw the new look of shock on the boy's face. Cocking her head to one side with glee, she slowly clenched her hand into a fist. As she did so, Cole felt his lower extremities go numb, and an even thicker layer of ice began to coat him; it started at his feet and spread up into his legs.

"You have been a thorn in my side since my first day here," she said with distain as she drew closer to the freezing boy, circling him like a vulture circles a soon-to-be meal. "When I first laid eyes on you and realized what you were, I knew I would have to get rid of you in some way."

Cole's breathing grew fast and shallow with fear as he lost feeling in his legs entirely. The ice was clawing its way up through his abdomen now. He tried to call for help, but his throat was frozen and unable to produce any sound beyond faint wheezing.

Desire heard the boy's weak whimper and laughed. "Poor Compassion," she taunted as ice began to cover Cole's fingers. She cupped Alassiel's dainty hands around his pale, frightened face and leaned in. "I'll bet you came in here, thinking 'I'll help her, I'll save her, I'll make it _all_ better'. It must be _embarrassing_ to be so single-minded."

Cole experienced a panic he hadn't felt since being locked away in the cupboard on the "bad day" when the ice climbed up into his lungs, freezing them and stopping his breathing.

He was going to die.

Nearly all feeling was gone now, and his vision began to go dark as he slowly suffocated. "I think it's time to send you home," he heard Desire whisper almost sweetly in his ear as the magical ice traveled up his neck, burning like tiny daggers in this throat. "But how shall I do it, hmm? I think…shattered into a thousand bloody shards, like beautiful crimson snowflakes."

Cole could barely see her cackling form as she positioned herself in front of him and extended her hand once more. Having lost all feeling and all hope of being rescued, his consciousness rapidly slipping away, he prepared himself for the horrific death she had in mind.

Moments passed. Nothing happened.

Then, a wave of pure relief washed over the barely conscious boy as he felt the sensation of ice slowly melting from his throat and shoulders. He gasped loudly for air once his lungs were freed, and as his vision cleared ever so slightly, he saw the demon's outstretched arm shaking as she fought a losing battle to keep Cole encased in his frozen tomb. Her teeth were clenched out of concentration, her eyes displayed both alarm and ire, and blood began to trickle from her nose.

Cole could feel a spark of resistance within Alassiel's body. She was awake again, and trying desperately to break out of her prison within the Fade. There was resolve yet within her, a will to survive, to be free; she wasn't going to let the demon use _her_ magic to kill an innocent young man. Feeling returned to Cole's feet and hands, but the paralyzing effect of Desire's first spell kept him firmly rooted to the spot.

" _Fine!_ " Desire finally cried shrilly, throwing her arm back down as though she had ended a heated argument with someone. This dispelled her grip on Cole, and his weakened body collapsed to the cold stone floor, his hat landing next to him with an audible _clang_. He coughed and struggled for consciousness as the slender form of Alassiel stood over him menacingly. "I don't have time for this, anyway," she spat as her body twitched sporadically.

The more Alassiel struggled, the more the demon had to concentrate to put her back to sleep, and the more control over her human host she lost.

She knelt down slowly and picked up Cole's little black dagger with trembling fingers. Her eyes were wild as she stared at the helpless form at her feet, appearing to contemplate whether or not to plunge the dagger into his belly. Before she could decide, however, the sound of rapid footsteps could be heard from the end of the hall.

"Cole!" cried the voice of Rue as the steps grew louder. "Are you still down here? Are you all right?"

The steady stream of frustrations appeared to be shredding any remnants of composure the demon had. Her shoulders shook as a quiet chuckled escaped her lips. This chuckle quickly escalated into a desperate, hysterical cackle. Cole watched from the ground as she wiped the blood from her nose onto her red sleeve and hid his knife behind her back.

She brought a finger to her lips and said "Shh," while a painfully wide grin spread across her face. She looked completely insane.

* * *

Rue and Solas abruptly stopped their search for Cole—about halfway down the hallway lined with wooden casks—when they heard the sudden sound of a door handle turning. It startled them both, and they eyed the wooden door at the end of the hall intently as it slowly pushed open with an unpleasant creaking of its old hinges. The twitching form of Alassiel emerged from the dark room, unnerving smile stretching the branch-like blood markings under her eyes in a horrifying manner, and her right hand behind her back.

"There you are, Rue," she said, clearly making an effort to subdue the tremors in her voice. "I was…wondering where you were."

Rue gritted her teeth and aggressively stepped forward. "Drop the charade, demon!" she cried, outraged that this thing _dared_ to continue lying to her. "We know what you are now, and I think you've worn my cousin's skin long enough!"

Alassiel's body trembled, and she let her arm fall limp her at her side, revealing the small black dagger she was gripping. "You wouldn't say such things," she whispered as she slowly hung her head, "if you'd just let me in." She took her own step forward, but it was clumsy and stiff, like a marionette controlled by a young child.

"Inquisitor, that dagger belongs to Cole," Solas stated in alarm when he saw it. "What have you done with him?" His voice rang louder down the hall at the possessed elf.

She didn't answer, content to only babble under her breath while staring unblinkingly at Rue, ambling even closer. "…To say such things…I only want you to love me…only me…If I can't have you…"

Rue's whole body went hot with panic. If the demon kept pressing them…gods, she couldn't kill her own cousin. She _couldn't!_ She wished to Mythal that she had at least brought her fighting daggers with her. Perhaps she could have presented herself as a threat to keep the demon at a distance while they thought of a plan to subdue her. As it stood, however, all she had was Solas, and there was always a chance that it could overcome his magic.

"Answer us, thing!" she commanded, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Where _is_ Cole?"

"I'm here!" came the young man's strained voice as he stumbled out of the room and supported himself against the doorframe. "It's a desire demon! Rue, it wants _you!_ "

At this revelation, the thing inside Alassiel broke into another fit of hysterical laughter, halting her stride toward Rue and instead freezing the air around her left palm into a glowing orb of cold energy. "If I can't have you, Rue…then…I suppose _no one_ can _._ "

At the sight of the forming radiant energy, Solas threw his arm out in preparation for the oncoming assault. Rue braced herself beside him. Before their eyes, however, the orb in Alassiel's hand gradually diminished in size and brightness, much to Desire's dismay. When it vanished from her hand in a gentle puff of frost, the demon shrieked and doubled over, clawing at her face.

"She won't let you hurt us with _her_ magic," Cole said sternly from the doorway, picking out the young elf's feelings within the chaotic quagmire of Desire's ranting rage.

What happened next made Rue's blood run cold. The irrevocably infuriated demon raised the dagger in its right hand and plunged it straight through Alassiel's left. There was a shrill cry of pain, followed by the words, "Just…go…back…to sleep!"

Rue screamed in horror at what just happened as Alassiel's blood ran down her wrist, soaked into the sleeves of her silk shirt, and even dripped onto the grey stone floor. She tried to run to her cousin, but Solas grabbed her wrist to hold her back.

"Don't! She's breaking down, and in this state, there's no telling what she'll do!"

"I can't just leave her to be mutilated by that thing!" Rue shouted back, fighting Solas' grip. Alassiel resumed her insane cackling, spurring her cousin to pull even harder against him.

"For all we know, it's just trying to manipulate you into coming to her!" The apostate held fast against Rue's struggling, grey eyes flashing with frustration at her stubbornness. "This is a lesser Desire demon; it _will_ kill you to get even a _fraction_ of the solace of power and ownership over you, if it has to!"

"But—"

Rue didn't get a chance to finish arguing, because Cole picked that moment to put an end to Desire's unhinged antics. The demon didn't notice the pale blonde boy creep up behind her, and he laced his arms around hers and behind her head with ease, kicking her feet out from under her and sending them both to the floor. Poised over her flailing, thrashing form, his knee pressed firmly into her back and one hand keeping her head to the floor, Cole wrenched his dagger out of Alassiel's grip with the other hand and held its point at the nape of her neck.

"Cole, don't!" Rue pleaded with an outstretched hand, unsure of what he was going to do next.

He gave her an expressionless stare through his long, blonde bangs. His hair clung to his head where his hat normally rested. "What do we do now?"

The three didn't even have time to breathe; Alassiel's entire form turned white as snow and slipped out from underneath Cole like a blizzard, billowing swiftly past Rue and Solas and down the hall. She regained her solid form just before disappearing around the corner, leaving the two rogues and mage in shock. After a moment of processing what had just happened, the three of them gave chase.

* * *

Rue, Cole, and Solas tore through the empty kitchen and down the stairs toward Skyhold's stables, their ears strained for signs of hysterical laughter. What they instead heard were voices of concern, along with grunting and cursing.

"Someone hurts," Cole murmured as they ran into the lower courtyard. They slowed their gait to a walk when they saw a small group of soldiers and chantry sisters surrounding someone slumped on a bale of hay near Skyhold's large entryway.

As they approached, Rue gasped to see the person on the hay bale was Blackwall. He was gritting his teeth and cradling his left arm, which appeared to have been gashed open from his bicep to the middle of his forearm, judging by the way his blood blossomed through his gambeson.

"Blackwall!" Rue cried, pushing her way through the crowd.

"Away with you! Everyone!" Solas commanded, ushering the onlookers away with his arm and staff. "We will handle this."

The crowd reluctantly dispersed, leaving the four alone by the gate. While Solas knelt down to examine the wound, Blackwall spoke up.

"Inquisitor, it was your cousin…I don't know what's got into her, but… _damn…_ " He grimaced in pain as Solas gently pulled his arms straight to get a better look.

"This wound seems fairly deep. What did she cut you with?" Solas inquired, looking up at him.

"It's dark, Solas," Blackwall answered with blunt sarcasm, indicating the torches above them and the scant light around them, "and I didn't expect her to suddenly lunge at me when I approached her. If I _had_ to guess, I'd say it was a kitchen knife."

"Where did she go?" Rue asked.

"After she lost her damn mind, she ran out of the gate," he answered, giving her a pained look. "What's going on, Inquisitor?"

Rue licked her dry lips and glanced about. It was late in the evening, and the courtyard was completely empty. Even so, out in the open was hardly a place to discuss this, and Blackwall needed medical attention.

"Let's get you to the infirmary," she said. "There are…things I need to confess to you—to all of you."


	5. The Confession

_Author's note: Hey guys, I know this chapter came two days later than I announced it would, but I was having major issues writing it. It ended up going through a few revisions. I'm not sure why. I hope you all enjoy, though, and I hope the next chapter isn't quite a bitch to write._

 **The Confession**

Blackwall gritted his teeth as Sister Madeleine pulled the needle through his skin and made another stitch. Each suture into his arm hurt like hell, even after he ingested the vile-tasting herbal medicine she had given him. The many battle scars on his upper body were exposed as he sat bare-chested on a wooden armchair with Sister Madeleine kneeling beside him, diligently working to close the gash on his arm; his blood-soaked gambeson lay spread across a small desk in the corner of the infirmary, a large slit in the arm where the possessed Alassiel had sliced him.

"I thought that crap was supposed to dull the pain," he grunted before the needle went in again.

"It _does,_ " The chantry sister answered testily, pulling the thread through his arm until the open tissue came together. "You're just being a big baby. You can take cuts from battle like a champion, but one chantry sister with a needle makes you squirm in your seat?" She clucked her tongue in disapproval when she inserted the needle once more and Blackwall slammed his other fist onto the arm of the wooden chair upon which he sat.

Though young, Sister Madeleine had tended to many wounds during her short time in the Chantry. She had been with the Inquisition since its establishment in Haven, thus she had become well acquainted with the soldiers under Cullen's command, as well as with the members of the Inquisition's inner circle. She had a soft face, warm brown eyes, and a no-nonsense attitude, especially when it came to stitching up patients. The toughest soldiers always seemed to turn into blubbering children as soon as a needle was introduced.

Rue and the others watched in the otherwise quiet infirmary. It was just past midnight, and many of the other patients were fast asleep in their cots, hidden behind thin silk curtains that acted as makeshift rooms—more than once, Rue had to scold Cole for peeking in on sleeping patients, and she was growing weary of explaining the concept of privacy over and over again. A dozen or so candles were lit upon various desks, stools, and shelves to make just enough light for Sister Madeleine to see her hands and the large gash on Blackwall's left arm, but to keep it dim enough for the other patients to sleep easily.

Sera had joined the group in the infirmary, along with Cassandra, Cullen, and Josephine. Josephine, having been woken up mere minutes earlier, was uncharacteristically underdressed; her deep black hair hung freely in tousled curls down her back, and this was the first time Rue had ever seen her in that purple velvet robe. This was not to say that she didn't carry the presence of the Inquisition's ambassador, oh no; her wooden note board was still in hand, its little red candle alight so she could take notes of the situation.

"I won't lie," Cullen said to Rue, "this will be difficult to keep within Skyhold. A good number of soldiers saw what happened, and word is already spreading through the barracks."

"We should strive to keep this as quiet as possible, however," Josephine answered as she took note of all the possible avenues for gossip in the fortress. "The last thing we need is for the rest of Thedas to think the Inquisition cannot control its internal affairs. If word were to get out that an abomination slid into our ranks, and that it was the Inquisitor's _cousin,_ no less, our reputation would be—"

"Please don't call her that, Josephine," Rue said quietly as she stared at the floor. She was still trying to process the events she had witnessed an hour ago; Alassiel's hysterical laughter, and her blood dripping onto the stone cellar floor remained vivid in Rue's mind. And now this; the façade had fallen apart, and the demon had lashed out at Blackwall, just as Solas suggested it would.

Cullen approached Rue hesitantly. "Inquisitor, I can only imagine how this is affecting you, but you must be prepared for what this means, and what we may have to do. Whether we like it or not, she _has_ become an abomination, and must be dealt with accordingly."

Rue clenched her teeth at Cullen's words. It was all becoming too much. "There's got to be a way to help her. I won't just hunt her down and kill her like an animal."

Cassandra shook her head, frowning at the floor. "None of us are trained to exorcise a demon, Inquisitor. When a mage becomes an abomination, we have only one method of dealing with it."

"Well, that _method_ is out of the question." Rue spoke softly, but there was a warning tone in her speech. An anger she hadn't felt in years was bubbling inside her. How could they be so ready to consider killing Alassiel as the only solution?

"Please, Inquisitor—" Josephine began before Cassandra cut her off with a raised voice.

"This _thing_ slithered right into Skyhold. It ate our food, it slept in our bed, and now it's attacked us! We cannot afford to be gentle with it! We must—"

"Enough, Cassandra!" Rue rounded on the Seeker, her hands balled tightly into fists. "I will _not_ kill my own cousin! There's a way to help her, I know it! This has happened before, and we saved her then!"

"What do you _mean,_ 'this has happened before'? This isn't the _first_ time?"

Rue was nearly panting with rage and her arms were shaking, but her blood turned to ice at Cassandra's question. Her throat ran dry as she noticed that all eyes in the room were on her now, most with a look of shock and confusion in them. She swallowed hard. For a long time, she didn't answer, and the silence in the infirmary was only broken by the soft breathing and rustling sheets of sleeping patients behind the curtains.

"No," Rue finally admitted, taking a deep breath and loosening her hands. She had to calm down; lost tempers weren't going to help the situation, and she knew that. "This is why I know we can help her. She's been possessed before."

"Tell us what happened," Cassandra insisted, endeavoring to calm herself as well.

Blackwall stirred in his seat. He wanted to comfort Rue and tried to stand, but Sister Madeleine wordlessly gripped his shoulder and pushed him back into the chair. He glared at her with outrage, but her own dark, warning stare kept him in his place. Having won his compliance back, she lifted his arm and began to wrap it in gauze.

Rue took another deep breath and leaned against the stone wall near the infirmary's door for support. "It was ten years ago. The day after she had gotten her vallaslin, in fact; she was so proud that she didn't cry during the ritual, and wanted to go for a walk to tell me all about it. We couldn't have been more than two kilometers from camp before she spotted something in the distance through the trees. A figure, surrounded by a circle of strange pillars." She cast a glance at Solas.

"A binding circle," he muttered, frowning.

Rue nodded. "The one that was used to bind your friend looked very similar. Alassiel approached it, and I followed. I know now that the thing was a demon, but at the time, I didn't know _what_ to think. When it saw us, it didn't waste any time trying its tricks." Her voice became bitter, and she spat the next sentence. "It _knew_ Alassiel was the vulnerable one, and it spun her a nice little story about being summoned against its will, wanting to go home to the Fade, and needing her to set it free…"

"What did you do?" Cassandra asked, simultaneously enthralled and horrified.

"I didn't trust it for a fucking second!" she answered, giving her a do-you-think-I'm-stupid look. "It looked like a hunchback corpse with tentacles! I told Alassiel to stay away from it, to leave it alone and keep walking, but it was like she couldn't hear me anymore. She let it out, and it immediately took hold of her."

Rue cringed and withdrew as she remembered, wrapping her arms around herself. "Gods, the way her body twitched and convulsed on the ground…I thought she was going to die! I ran as fast as I could back to camp with her in my arms; I could barely see through my tears, my feet bled from tripping on sharp stones, but none of that mattered, not then; I just screamed at the top of my lungs for Keeper Deshanna when I finally reached camp.

"She was able to exorcise the thing before it could fully take control, but that very night, she spoke with my aunt and uncle about sending Alassiel away. She was deemed a danger to herself and the clan if she remained, so a few days later, we met up with some Templars Keeper Deshanna knew in a nearby village, and they took her away." Rue stared at the ground and pursed her lips tightly in an effort to keep her chin from quivering, her voice cracking with her last sentence, "My best friend…gone."

She fought the urge to break down completely when she felt a hand gently grip her shoulder. Looking up with wet eyes, she saw that Cole and come to offer reassurance. His face maintained that neutral expression, but his eyebrows subtly communicated concern. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't know how to make the hurting stop."

Rue laughed meekly and pat his hand reassuringly. "It's all right, Cole. You're doing just fine." With that, she pushed away from the wall and wiped her eyes.

"You told us when we were campin' that Templars took your cousin by force, just 'cause she was usin' magic out in the open," Sera suddenly piped up, her brows furrowed as she caught the discrepancy in the story. She had been seated on a small stool by Blackwall while listening to Rue. "Why the lie? I mean, I thought you _trusted us with your secrets_ an' all that." She rolled her eyes with the emphasis.

Rue let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her temples with her thumb and middle finger. "To be honest, you were so drunk that I'm amazed you remember that story so well." She chuckled until she realized that Sera wasn't laughing with her. On the contrary, she looked quite hurt. "I didn't tell you guys because I had promised Keeper Deshanna that much. It was the one favor I did before I changed my name and distanced myself from everyone."

"Why do a favor like _that?_ " Sera raised her voice angrily. "Ya didn't think we could, I dunno, _keep your secrets_?"

"Put yourself in the position of a Dalish clan for a moment, Sera," Rue said louder than she had intended, immediately being hushed by Sister Madeleine. She lowered her voice in response. "Even for my clan, relations with humans were tentative, at best. The only reason the Dalish can pursue magic outside of Circle restraints, _without_ Templar interference, is because of our strict rules on magic. Our clan is only supposed to have four mages at any given time, and Alassiel…" she shook her head and looked away, growing even more quiet, "she was a fifth. Keeper Deshanna tried to make an exception, for my uncle's sake."

"That was bold of her." Solas spoke with understanding in his voice. "The situation is not always so black and white when children are involved."

"Bold, but foolish," Cullen interjected with a hint of disgust, his arms crossed. "That 'exception' could very well be the reason we're in this mess."

Rue frowned at Cullen, but couldn't deny that he was most likely right. She turned back to Sera. "And if word somehow spread that our people couldn't control or account for our own mages, we could be faced with another Exalted March. Gods, and imagine if the other Dalish clans found out our Keeper had _given_ one of our own to a human circle. It's not that I didn't trust you or Blackwall; I trust each and every one of you here more than most in my clan, but it was better to be safe. I'm sorry, Sera."

Sera huffed in response and looked away. "Whatever. Can we all just say 'fuck secrets' from now on? Yeah? 'Specially big, fat ones that get people stabbed?"

"It's really more of a slice," Blackwall objected, looking at his freshly bandaged arm.

"Shut it. You know what I mean."

"In any case," said Solas, turning to Rue, "finding Alassiel should be our top priority now. She fled from Skyhold, but I don't believe she's gone far. The demon is obsessed with you, and is likely to return."

"If you're certain of that, we could set a trap for it here, in Skyhold," Cassandra suggested.

Solas shook his head gravely. "I wouldn't recommend it. Inquisitor, part of your cousin is conscious and fighting the desire demon. This struggle is causing her body to break down. You saw how erratic her behavior was in the cellar. That wasn't the demon's doing alone; her body needs an outlet for the abundant emotional and physical stress, but eventually it will stop functioning altogether. She will die if we wait too long."

"And waiting for her to return," Josephine added, "would put many in Skyhold in danger."

Blackwall stood and gingerly raised his arm to test his bandages. "And unless I missed something, none of you came to an agreement on dealing with the demon," he said, wincing as soon as he felt the thread in his skin pull.

Furrowing her brows in thought, Rue reflexively moved her index finger to spin her ring for concentration. She stopped, however, when she remembered what would happen. She stared at her thumb, gears turning in her head.

The ring gave her a connection to Alassiel. Spinning it allowed Alassiel to pull Rue's consciousness into the Fade. Could it be used to reach _her_ , to pull Alassiel _out?_ If so, how? Rue didn't exactly have control over _where_ she went in the Fade, but perhaps…Cole…

"Cole!" Rue abruptly exclaimed, startling nearly everyone. " _You_ might be able to reach her! You have a connection to the Fade no one else has!"

The boy nodded. "I could try."

"Inquisitor, what are you talking about?" Cassandra asked.

Rue pulled her spinner ring from her thumb and held it up for the group to see. She explained how Alassiel had enchanted the ring, the visions she had been seeing since the demon arrived in Skyhold, how spinning the ring would take her to the Fade, and how Cole was able to come with her by holding her hand.

"It is possible," Solas said as he nodded in understanding. "One tends to leave a trace of themselves in the item they enchant. Since Cole has a foot in both worlds, he could, theoretically, use the ring to locate and retrieve your cousin from the Fade. I suspect he will have to get close to Alassiel's body, however. Proximity seems to be key here."

"But the ring also keeps you safe from Desire," said Cole, remembering the demon's furious babble in the cellar. "If I have the ring, it might be able to get inside your head."

"Then I guess we'll have to work fast, won't we?" Rue shrugged. "We don't have any other choice. If we don't act soon, she's dead, regardless."

* * *

With a bare-bones plan of action to set in motion, Rue, Cole, Sera, and Cassandra gathered their weapons and equipment by candlelight. Rue gave Blackwall a gentle embrace and a promise to return (at his insistence), and the four set off through Skyhold's large gate. The Frostback Mountains were penetratingly cold at night, and this particular evening was cloudless, which chilled the air even more. It didn't take long for Sera to start complaining about how the cold air was freezing her lungs, and how she would blame Rue if she died of pneumonia.

Cole had slipped Rue's ring onto his ring finger and used it as a focus. He sensed that Desire was only a few hundred meters south of where they were, which made Rue simultaneously relieved and anxious; they only had one shot at this, and she didn't want to think about what would happen if they failed.

As the rogues and seeker marched through the ankle-deep snow, their path illuminated only by the full moonlight, Cassandra pulled back to walk in stride with Rue. "Inquisitor," she muttered while Sera and Cole continued ahead, "have you given much thought to what may happen if we are successful in rescuing your cousin?"

Rue smiled at the thought. "Not really. Nothing beyond a lot of hugs and probably crying. Why?"

Cassandra chewed the side of her mouth for a moment before answering. "She has been possessed twice now, Inquisitor. If she cannot resist the illusions and trickery of demons, then her magic may be a danger to her. Have you considered that, perhaps, tranquility would be the best option for her?"

Rue stopped walking and stared at Cassandra incredulously. "What?" she whispered harshly, her mouth agape at the suggestion. "How…why…why would you even _think—_ "

"Shut it, you two!" Sera suddenly hissed from a few meters ahead, ducking low. "Freaky says she's close."

Cole pointed to a dark cluster of trees ahead of them in the distance. "She's there," he said softly.

Rue strained her ears for any further sound. Her heart sank as she heard faint giggling coming from the direction Cole was pointing. The sound unnerved her. After taking a deep breath to compose herself, she signaled with two fingers for the others to sneak with her toward the gathering of frozen evergreens. The laughter grew louder as they drew nearer.

Once they reached the tree line, it was almost impossible to see beyond. The woods were pitch-black, save for a small prick of light cast by the moon in a nearby clearing. Thankfully, this seemed to be where the laughter emanated from. Keeping as quiet as possible, the four made their way to the clearing where an odd-looking shadow trembled in the light. Once they were close enough to see what the moon was illuminating, Rue froze.

There, sitting upon the rotting trunk of a fallen tree, twitching and shuddering, giggling like a maniac with a large kitchen knife in hand, was Alassiel.


	6. Unrequited Obsession

**Unrequited Obsession**

Her body convulsed erratically atop the fallen log. Her once clean and kempt golden bob was a disheveled mess of twigs and knots, and her red silk garment was torn and frayed at the hem. Her black silk stockings were ripped open, exposing many small cuts on her pale legs. She had clearly fallen several times before taking refuge here. Desire stared with Alassiel's eyes down at the snow, kitchen knife held firmly in her right hand, and blood still dripping onto the snow from the open wound in her other hand.

The sight made the bottom drop out of Rue's stomach. She seemed so far gone already. Would their plan really work? Would Cole really be able to dig Alassiel out from wherever the demon had buried her in the Fade?

Still hidden behind the dense tree line, she carefully turned on her heels to talk to her companions. "Okay, Solas said Cole needs to be close for this to work. I'm assuming this means he needs to be touching her. Something tells me you won't be able to just cloak yourself and sneak up to her, though."

"No," Cole whispered, shaking his head. "She will see me. Demons and spirits are better at finding me than people."

Rue pursed her lips in thought. "So that means I'll have to be bait. Sera, I need you to wait behind those trees on the right—" she pointed a little ways ahead, indicating a cluster of trees that aligned with where Alassiel was sat "—Cassandra, on the left. If I can get Desire to drop her guard, I'll need you two ready to grab her arms. Cole, once we have her, you know what to do."

Cole nodded. "Desire hurt her. I won't let it hurt her anymore. I will stop it."

"Erm, Rue," whispered Sera with a raised eyebrow, "this plan's all well and good—well, it's not really, 'cause I have to grab a _demon_ —but what happens if things go tits up an' we can't get the thingy out?"

Rue paused for a moment to consider Sera's question. "Let's just hope things don't go _'tits up'_ ," she answered with a grin of mock assuredness.

Sera laughed, more out of nervousness than amusement. "The good ol' 'Hope to Hell the plan works'. Gotcha."

Cassandra put a hand on Sera's shoulder. "She will be stronger than she looks when you grab her, Sera. Hang on to her tightly." She then exchanged a look with the Inquisitor, her sharp eyes communicating her intent if the plan fell apart. Rue frowned, but nodded in understanding.

She and Sera went their separate ways, sneaking around the edge of the forest before waiting in the shadows of their designated hiding places.

Rue took a deep breath and prepared herself mentally. She whispered a small prayer of guidance to Mythal before slowly stepping out from behind the shadow of the tree and walking into the light of the small clearing.

The sound of leather boots crunching on snow got the demon's attention immediately. She raised her head slightly and smiled that uncomfortably wide smile. " _There_ you are," she said eerily, her repeated words making Rue's skin crawl. The blade of the knife in her hand glinted ominously in the moonlight as she turned it.

Rue pretended not to be bothered. "Desire, I think we should—"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" she interrupted softly, her unblinking eyes boring straight through Rue. "It hurts, you know. Call me 'Alassiel'. I can be her—I _am_ her."

The demon then stood, her gaze completely fixated on Rue. "I would be so much more than she ever could be. I have greater control over her magic, and greater focus. I would smite your enemies at a single word from you. I would do _anything_ for you."

To her alarm, Rue discovered that she couldn't break away from Desire's gaze. She could barely take a step back as the demon advanced. "Of—of course you would," she finally uttered in a desperate attempt to keep Desire talking, to make it feel confident and at ease. "It's impossible to ignore your strengths. You are _far_ superior to her—"

"Then let me _be_ her," she simpered. Her body had all but stopped twitching. Alassiel was clearly losing the fight for control. "Let me be by your side. Let me love you."

Rue could no longer move. Desire was sliding into her mind, and she could feel her resistance fading. Without the ring to shield her, there was nothing to stop the demon from stripping her defenses, and the gradual loss of control was terrifying. It was as though a hazy mist was filling her head, making her feel disoriented and weak. She stood helplessly as Desire closed the gap between them and placed an icy hand upon her cheek.

"All I ask," she whispered softly in Rue's ear, "is that you love me. Love _only_ me." Desire then slid her arms around Rue's body in a soft embrace.

Though Rue fought to keep the demon's tendril-like influence at bay in her mind, she returned the embrace and held her cousin's frozen body tightly. Between the piercing cold of the night, the physical stress of the struggle between Alassiel and Desire, and the injuries sustained, it would not be long before Alassiel's body shut down completely. She would die soon, and Desire either didn't realize this or didn't care.

Rue could feel tears welling up in her eyes. The thought of losing her only family frightened her more than the paralysis and the demon that had her locked in its arms. She wouldn't let Alassiel die now. It wasn't an option.

This resolve seemed to strengthen her resistance to Desire, and the fog in her mind cleared a bit. "Alassiel," she whispered, shutting her eyes and letting her tears roll down her cheeks and onto her cousin's head. "Please, don't give up."

A heavy sigh then came from Desire. "It will never be me, will it, Rue? I could give you all my devotion, and you _still_ wouldn't let me in, would you?" Its whisper was cold and sharp, and Rue could feel the demon slowly shift its right arm. Panic shot through her when she realized that Desire's right hand held the kitchen knife. "It makes me sad, but the thought of losing you to anyone else is too much to bear. I love you, Rue. Remember that."

Rue still couldn't pull away or move, and Desire had drawn its arm back enough to position the knife at her stomach. The pressure from the sharp point of the blade dug painfully through her coat, tunic, and undershirt. The sensation of helplessness made the fear Rue felt far more palpable. Just when she anticipated the demon to run her through with the knife, a pair of strong, armored hands snatched Alassiel's thin wrist and arm, and wrenched it away from Rue's stomach.

Cassandra had bounded from her hiding spot as soon as she realized what the demon intended to do, and Sera was not far behind. The flustered city elf latched onto Alassiel's left arm and held on for dear life. This was good, as the shocked demon began to thrash and scream in frustration, its strength far greater than one would anticipate Alassiel's tiny frame to have.

With Desire's concentration broken, Rue was freed from her paralysis, and the fog in her mind had dissipated completely. She staggered backward as she took in the chaotic scene before her. Cassandra seemed to have a good enough grip, but Sera was nearly lifted off the ground with each desperate flail, screaming " _Oh frig, oh frig, oh frig!_ " as she struggled to maintain control.

Rue spun around and screamed for Cole, only to be startled by his sudden appearance right next to her. He stared fiercely at the shrieking demon from under the leather rim of his hat. The moment it saw him, and Rue's ring on his finger, it began to thrash more ferociously.

Cole wordlessly approached, unfazed by Desire's wild movements. With strong hands, he clutched both sides of Alassiel's head to hold it still. This made the demon scream even louder in protest. He closed his eyes, leaned in, and placed his forehead against Alassiel's. The moment Cole did this, all fighting and screaming ceased, and Cassandra and Sera realized that the tension in her arms had lessened considerably. The kitchen knife even fell from her fingers into the snow.

The stillness lasted for only a moment, however, before Cole reopened his eyes. He stared into the wide, deep blue orbs before him, and commanded with the utmost authority: " _Get out._ "

There was a sudden blast of deep magenta from Alassiel's body. The energy violently shot outward in a bright rosy ring, knocking Rue, Sera, and Cassandra to the ground, then dissipated into the air like smoke. Alassiel fell completely limp, and Cole took her into his arms. Without waiting to breathe, Rue sprang to her feet and ran to her cousin, putting two fingers to her throat to check her pulse. Still alive, still breathing, but ice to the touch. Rue hastily pulled off her purple coat and, with Cole's help, wrapped it around Alassiel to warm her.

"Did it work?" asked Sera hesitantly, sitting up and looking back and forth between Alassiel and the pink smoke that still hung in the cold night air.

As if to spite Sera, a deep, yet feminine voice rang through the air from seemingly all over. "I…don't believe it. I only wanted…to be with you. To understand that bond that you and Alassiel share."

The smoke that lingered above Rue and her companions then came together in the air, swirling into a rosy cloud. The wind roared around them, and the night sky seemed to grow darker as the cloud took on a humanoid shape. "But in the end, you selfishly keep your love from me. You shut yourself away, and won't let me in. Now, I have nothing and no one. I am alone." The pale moonlight now illuminated a tall, feminine body with what appeared to be long, thin ram's horns and rosy wisps of mist for hair.

Cassandra drew her sword. "What _is_ that? The demon?"

"Yes," Cole answered. "Alassiel made it leave. It's very angry with us now."

" _It's_ angry with _us?_ " said Rue, her teeth gritted with outrage as she pulled Pepper and Paprika from their sheaths in anticipation for what was to come.

Desire lowered itself until it was just hovering above the snow, and everyone took a step back. Its entire voluptuous body was a light lavender hue and almost completely bare, save for thin, flowing silk that loosely wrapped around its hips and breasts. Despite how hurt it had sounded, it smirked at Rue with soft, full lips.

"Cole, get Alassiel out of here," Rue ordered, not taking her eyes from the demon before her.

The boy nodded and ran for the shelter of the trees, carefully holding the unconscious elf in his arms. Rue could see Desire tracking Cole's movements with its eyes. Its expression turned into one of contempt. "I could have made her great. I could have made _us_ great. But that boy, that _thing_ got in the way. The precious bond I could have with you as Alassiel—"

"Whatever you try to tell yourself, you have absolutely _no_ concept of our bond, demon!" Rue spat, feeling hot, white hate crawling up her spine. "You turned Alassiel's love into some sick obsession! You manipulated me and hurt those I care about, and if you knew _anything_ about me, you'd know that I _do not_ forgive." She took an aggressive step forward and pointed her ornate onyx dagger at Desire threateningly. "It's back to the Fade for you."


	7. The Folly of Desire

_Author's note: Hey everyone. After this chapter, I probably won't be able to post for a few weeks. I leave for a two-week vacation to the States next Monday, and will most likely not have enough spare time to write. I hope everyone's having a great summer so far, though, and I'll see you in August!_

 **The Folly of Desire**

Daggers firmly in her hands, Rue charged the tall, feminine demon of desire, who smirked with delight as she drew near. Rue planted one foot forward and lunged with a horizontal slash of her blade, but it only whistled through the still night air as Desire evaporated into pink mist with an amused cackle. Rue stumbled forward in surprise, and barely had time to process what had happened before Cassandra's desperate voice called out.

"Behind you!"

Startled, she looked over her shoulder in time to see a slender, lavender arm with long, razor-like nails swat at her face. A well-timed roll forward into the snow saved her life; she felt the wind against her scalp as Desire narrowly missed her head. Rue tumbled through the powdery snow until she felt she had created enough distance, then sprang to her feet.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Rue," Desire said in a tone dripping with sweetness, swaying her hips softly from side to side in a delicate rhythm, her self-assured smirk spread on her full, violet lips. "I could simply admit defeat, and you could let me go. I would promise to never show my face to you or your Inquisition again. No one has to fight. No one has to bleed."

Rue shook her head sternly. "I won't allow you to do to someone else what you did to us. You die, demon!"

Desire's face contorted into an exaggerated expression of sorrow. "It's such a pity, Rue. I really didn't want to kill you."

Movement behind Desire caught Rue's attention. Sera had strung and readied her bow. With a satisfied grin, the city elf pulled an arrow back until its feathers reached her earlobe. Thinking quickly, Rue drew her eyes back to Desire, pretending not to have noticed. The ruse fell through, however, as Desire cast a sideways glance to where Rue had looked, and a smile tugged at the side of her mouth once more.

Rue's gut tightened when Sera loosed her arrow and the demon vanished again. The arrow whizzed through the rosy smoke, and Rue had to flatten herself to the ground to avoid being skewered.

"Oh, balls! Shit! Rue! You all right?" Sera cried frantically, unable to see the Inquisitor through the smoke.

"I'm fine!" she called back as she straightened up and brushed the snow from her tunic. She ran through the demon's obscuring cloud and regrouped with Sera and Cassandra.

The Seeker looked around wildly, her longsword and heater shield at the ready. "Why does it toy with us? Why doesn't it fight?"

Another cackle rang through the air all around them, as though it were an echo with no origin. Rue cast her glance around the empty clearing for any sign of Desire, seeing nothing but her two companions and the cloud of magenta that the demon had left behind. She focused on the lingering cloud and wondered why it hadn't yet dissipated. After a few seconds, she had her answer.

To Rue's alarm, she realized that the mist was spreading and reaching around them rapidly. Before she could scream to her companions to run, it had completely surrounded the three in a large ring.

"What now?" said Cassandra as she stared at the rosy ring of fog in disbelief. She bunched together with Rue and Sera, their backs to each other, the three of them trying to keep as far from the ring's edge as possible.

Sera was swearing wildly out of fear, inserting a barely coherent "What's goin' on?" after every other cluster of expletives. Her bow was drawn and aimed at the smoke, even though they were all fairly certain that firing into it would prove futile. Rue opened her mouth to comfort Sera when movement caught her eye within the thick, rosy mist.

The tall, horned silhouette of Desire loomed into view, but it wasn't alone; another demon appeared, identical to Desire; then another, and another. Seven indistinguishable copies surrounded Rue and her companions, all smiling that horrifying smile of amusement.

Cassandra brandished her sword threateningly. "We should have known a cowardly monster like you would resort to illusions!"

"Cowardly?" all seven demons said with feigned hurt. "I'm merely leveling the playing field, darling. Three against one was hardly fair, wouldn't you say?"

"Enough of this shite!" Sera yelled in a voice that quaked with both fear and anger, launching an arrow at the swaying lavender form in front of her. The arrow shot straight through the illusion, making the circle of Desires laugh. Before Sera could react, the copy then retaliated by forming a small sphere of light in its palm and throwing it at her with great speed. It slammed into her stomach and burst into sparks; Coughing and sputtering, Sera doubled over in pain. She dropped her bow and fell to her hands and knees.

"Sera!" Rue cried as she abandoned her post and ran to her friend's side, kneeling next to her with concern.

Cassandra growled in frustration and stared at the demons with utmost contempt. "So, we can't hurt the illusions, but they can certainly hurt us."

Helping Sera to sit upright, Rue noticed small holes in her long red tunic where the sparks from the sphere had singed her. Other than that, the attack seemed to have only knocked the wind out of her. "Can you stand?" Rue asked, holding her hand out to help Sera up. The city elf opened her mouth to answer, when—

" _Look out!_ "

Cassandra's shout startled Rue, and she looked up in time to see Desire gliding quickly toward her, its slit pupils dilated in excitement like a cat about to catch its prey. It raised its clawed hand above its head before swinging down hard at the kneeling elves; in a desperate motion for survival, Rue threw up her red dagger, Paprika, in time to catch the demon's hand before it could impale them. Paprika's blade kept the claw at bay, but did no damage to Desire's skin. The demon giggled at Rue's struggle to keep herself and Sera alive before wrapping her long fingers around the blade and snapping it in half with little effort. Rue watched in horror as Paprika's upper half was carelessly tossed aside, leaving her with only an ornate hilt and a fraction of the red drakestone blade.

It was then that Cassandra's steel longsword came down upon the demon's horned head, slicing straight through its body like a hot knife through butter. With a gasp of shock, she vanished, leaving only six copies of Desire left, all of whom looked furious.

"I'll cut through each and every one of you to get to the real one, if I must!" Cassandra cried in defiance as Rue helped Sera to her feet.

"You should be so lucky," the six Desires retorted, scowling. "It's time to end this little game, my sweets."

Six arms extended out toward Rue and her companions, and bright, pale pink orbs formed in six upturned palms. These orbs were much larger than the one that had struck Sera—about the size of Rue's head—and a well-placed shot from even one of those could mean death. And there were _six_ of them. Rue drew Pepper, her only other remaining dagger; Sera, still panting from the shot to the stomach, readied another arrow; Cassandra threw her shield out. They were completely surrounded, and they knew they couldn't defend against every shot, but what else _could_ they do?

"You could have ended this at any time, Rue. Now, you and your friends— _Agh!_ " A sudden ear-piercing shriek of pain came from Rue's left. One demon staggered forward, clutching her back, and the others rapidly evaporated into mist with a look of shock.

To Rue's complete surprise, Cole had returned and plunged a dagger into the real demon's back. She saw him lung forth for a second strike, but Desire caught his wrist and, in a fit of rage, hurled him over her head like he weighed nothing. He landed head first into the snow next to Rue and tumbled until he managed to throw his arms out and catch himself. He scrambled clumsily to his feet, disoriented, his hat lost somewhere in the snow.

"Are you all right, Cole?" Rue asked, looking back and forth between him and Desire.

"Y-yes," Cole panted, though Rue could see a sizeable trickle of blood run from under his pale blonde bangs down his left temple and cheek.

"I told you to get Alassiel out of here and someplace safe! What are you doing here?"

"She _is_ safe," Cole answered, shaking his head to clear it. "Hidden away, sheltered in shadow, safe. But _you're_ not. So I came back."

A powerful laugh then came from Desire, drawing everyone's attention. She seemed to have regained most of her composure, although she still had a hand to her back where Cole had stabbed her. "Oh, believe me, dears. That little brat is _not_ safe. Once I've dealt with all of you, I _will_ find her. I'll make her pay for ruining… _everything._ "

Sera had enough. With blinding speed, she pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back, set it on her bow, and drew the string taught. "Payment, eh?" she muttered. "Here ya go." She loosed her arrow, and this time it connected with her target.

It dug deep into Desire's right shoulder, earning a hiss and a shrill cry of pain. Rue, Cassandra, and Cole took advantage of the distraction and charged. As they drew near, Desire tore the arrow out of her skin, broke it, and glared at the three with contempt. She now seemed to be too weakened to use any kind of teleportation magic.

Cassandra attacked head-on, bringing her longsword down in a vertical strike. Desire caught the blade in her hand before it could strike her, but this time, it cut her. Thick, deep black blood ran down the demon's arm, and she hissed as she struggled with Cassandra's strength. Sera ran to catch up to the group, ready to pepper the demon with arrows at point-blank range.

Cole darted around and behind Desire to flank her once more, and Rue hung back, staring at her left hand. She willed the power within her mark to manifest with a bright green flash, and was ready to tear open a breach in the Fade to send the demon back, once it was weakened.

Desire, however, let out another loud, furious screech. " _ENOUGH!_ "

An intense blast of magenta energy emanated from her, knocking Cole backward into a nearby tree. Cassandra was launched into Sera, and the two hit the ground hard. Rue was blasted off her feet as well, hitting her head harshly on the snowy terrain.

Before she could summon the energy to sit up, Rue felt a strong hand grab both of her wrists and lift her straight off the ground and into the air. She was then face-to-face with Desire, the demon's visage one of hurt and scrutiny. Rue's head was pounding from the hard contact with the ground, and her vision doubled. She could feel the blood from Desire's cut hand seeping into the sleeves of her light brown tunic, and the wet, warm feeling sickened her. She tried weakly to wriggle out of the demon's grip, but her efforts were futile.

After what felt like an eternity of helplessly dangling there, staring into the violet eyes of Desire, Rue watched her lean in and kiss her forehead tenderly. She thrashed around more violently at this affront, kicking and flailing, though ultimately hitting nothing. The gall of this thing to pretend that it could share a _shred_ of intimacy with her!

It was then that Desire waved the clawed fingers of her other hand in front of Rue's face, a soft smile reappearing on her lips. The long nails of her hand traced Rue's body from her cheek to her chin, gliding down her throat, her collar bone, and past her breasts, stopping at her stomach. Rue then felt a painful pressure as Desire dug her nails into her abdomen. The demon bared its teeth with glee as Rue cried out in pain.

Just when she felt that Desire's claws would pierce her completely, a meek voice called out from a distance.

"Stop it…"

Rue barely heard it at first, but it grew louder and more desperate, and soon neither she nor Desire could ignore it.

"Stop it…Stop it. Stop it!"

The voice echoed from across the clearing, and both Rue and Desire looked to see its source. A small figure, barely visible in the moonlight, painstakingly pulled itself out from the forest's tree line through the snow. Thin, dainty fingers dug into the cold, white powder to pull a cut and battered body along the ground. Alassiel, panting and coughing, had dragged herself back from wherever Cole had hidden her. She then ceased her crawling, gathered all of her breath, and screamed at the top of her lungs, " _STOP IT!_ "

Rue gasped in shock at the sight of her cousin's tattered form. Desire, captivated by the object of her hate, dropped the Inquisitor immediately and stormed toward Alassiel. The young elf, having caught the demon's attention, continued to cry.

"Look at yourself! Look at what you're doing! This is wrong! All wrong!" Alassiel sobbed loudly as Desire drew nearer. "You were my _friend!_ I trusted you! And now…what have you _done!_ "

Desire reached down and grabbed Alassiel harshly by her matted blonde hair. She yanked the weak elf upright and stared down at her with contempt. "If things have gone _all wrong,_ it's your fault, you little bitch!" Desire wrapped her other hand around Alassiel's throat and lifted her off of her feet. She hung helplessly in the demon's grasp, coughing, gasping, and gagging as the fingers around her throat tightened.

Rue, her vision refocusing and strength returning, groped around frantically on the snowy ground for Pepper. Her heart jolted when her fingers brushed against a cold, steel hilt, and she took her onyx dagger into her hand. She staggered to her feet and glanced at her companions, all of whom had been knocked unconscious. Anger swelled within her, replacing her dizziness and disorientation.

"You ruined everything!" the demon snarled at Alassiel, whose struggling was growing weaker in her hand. "You, and that _thing!_ I'll tear him into a thousand pieces when I'm done with you!" Desire was consumed with hate. The rest of the world seemed to melt away as she choked the life out of her former host.

This was her undoing.

Fueled by her own rage, Rue charged Desire from behind at top speed, her feet making no noise in the crisp mountain snow. She leapt into the air and plunged Pepper deep into the base of Desire's neck, using gravity to rip down the demon's spine until her boots touched the ground.

Desire couldn't even cry out, only gasp loudly in agony. Her grip on Alassiel's throat loosened and the elf dropped to the ground, coughing meekly. The demon also crumpled into the snow, dark, thick blood staining the white snow beneath her; her bare, lavender body paralyzed from the damage done to her spine. She stared wildly up at Rue, who snapped the fingers of her left hand and opened a bright green breach in the sky.

Rue watched coldly as Desire slowly dissolved into the Fade, closing her fist and slamming the rift shut once every bit of her was gone. She stood still in the silent clearing for a moment, the only person still conscious after the nightmarish ordeal. Once the realization that it was all over truly hit her, she sheathed Pepper and scooped Alassiel off the ground, putting two fingers to her throat once more. Her pulse was even weaker than it had been, but it was there. Rue let out a heavy sigh of relief, and as she did so, she heard a groan behind her.

Seeker Cassandra sat up and looked around in bemusement, rubbing her right temple. When she spotted Rue with Alassiel in her arms, she slowly stood, staggering slightly. "What happened?" she asked hoarsely, realizing the forest clearing was completely still. "Is the demon…?"

"Back in the Fade," said Rue with a grim smile. "I think everything's going to be okay. Let's try to wake the others and head back home. I think we all could use a nap."


	8. The Aftermath

_Author's Note: Well, after a long break, here it is! The next chapter! Some of you may also have noticed that about half of the story is now missing._

 _Long story short: I hated it. The subplot ground the overall story to a screeching halt, and ultimately accomplished nothing, in my opinion. If any of you really want it back, I can look into releasing it as a separate submission, not connected to this primary plot. I want to make a good story, not a sub-par one, and I felt that the subplot was just dragging it down._

 _Thank you all for your understanding, and enjoy!_

 **The Aftermath**

There was silence in Alassiel's quarters while Rue looked down on her unconscious cousin with concern. The only sound to permeate the stillness was the delicate shuffling of papers as Solas reviewed his notes. He was in charge of monitoring Alassiel's recovery, and for the past several days, his pages had been relatively empty, his inkwell hardly touched.

— _Day one—_

 _Entrusted with the care of A._

 _Breathing normal. Pulse slow._

 _Occasional twitching of fingers, but little movement otherwise._

 _Applied salves to injuries._

 _Will monitor reaction._

 _—Day two—_

 _Pulse still slow._

 _Body reacts well to salves. Cuts already fading._

 _Will need healer for gash in A's left hand._

 _—Day three—_

 _Little change._

 _Carefully drop-fed water to keep hydrated._

 _—Day four—_

 _Little change._

 _No sign of stirring._

On the morning of the fifth day, however, Solas sent Sister Madeleine to fetch Rue regarding a sudden development in Alassiel's state. Upon hearing the news, Rue tore out of the war room to the upper halls, caring little for the curious glances from visiting Orlesian nobles as she zipped by the great hall. Since Sister Madeleine provided only minimal information and a concerned expression, Rue was left with only the worst scenarios her imagination could conjure as she approached the guest wing.

She flung open the door to Alassiel's quarters, startling Solas and sending several pages of freshly written notes fluttering to the ground.

"Inquisitor!" he said with surprise. "Forgive me, I did not expect you to arrive in such a… _spirited_ fashion." As he stooped to collect his papers, Rue hurriedly strode to Alassiel's bedside to see what was happening.

Her breathing wasn't as steady, and she wasn't nearly as motionless as before. She twitched and fidgeted every few seconds, and her sleeping expression bore that of discomfort; more than once, Rue thought she heard a weak whimper escape her cousin's mouth. The minor cuts and scrapes on her face had all but vanished, although her left hand was still thickly bandaged to the point where one could only see her little fingertips poking out of the gauze.

The most obvious and alarming difference, however, was Alassiel's hair. Her once radiant golden locks had faded considerably into a dull brown in the span of only one day. Rue gritted her teeth after taking in the sight, and she turned to Solas with worry.

"What's happening to her?"

Solas looked over Alassiel's sleeping form before calmly answering. "This is not uncommon among those who survive prolonged possession. Light hair can lose its luster and darken, and dark hair can turn white. In fact, in the time it took for Sister Madeleine to fetch you, the brown has deepened.

"A victim's eyes may even change color, although that doesn't seem to be the case with her." As if to prove his point, Solas leaned in and pried one of Alassiel's eyes open with his thumb and index finger. The iris was still an indigo blue, and the pupil reacted to the bright sunlight that shone through the window.

"She is doing rather well, all things considered," Solas added, closing the eye. "Her body is responding to medicine, she's the most animated I've seen in the past four days, and the change in hair color suggests she is coping with the stress of the possession. These are all good signs, Inquisitor. I predict she may even awaken by tomorrow morning."

Although Solas proclaimed the changes as positive, it was of little comfort to Rue. She knelt beside her cousin and took her twitching hand in hers.

"None of this should've happened," she muttered bitterly, growing more upset with each pained expression from Alassiel. "None of this _needed_ to happen. If Deshanna had just _tried,_ if she'd just _given a damn…_ " Rue felt her eyes grow wet, and she bit her lower lip to stop the tears.

"I understand the need to fault others in the face of helplessness, da'len," said Solas in a gentle tone, "but if your Keeper _had_ kept Alassiel, would things truly have been better? You said yourself that she was one mage too many. Was it _really_ reasonable to expect your Keeper to look after a Fade-touched child along with her other apprentices?"

"I expected her to not just _give_ one of her own away!" Rue snapped.

"I disagree with many of the Dalish practices," Solas retorted, more sternly this time. "How the Keepers treat the children of their clan, however, is not one of them. Sending away a child would not have been an easy decision, Inquisitor, and I think you know that."

Rue wanted to lash out at Solas. She wanted to stand up and yell that he couldn't possibly understand the situation, perhaps even overturn a bedside table for the sake of catharsis. Her better judgement kept her quiet, however, and instead she rigidly stood, and gently lay Alassiel's hand back onto the sheets.

"Thank you for the update, Solas," she said bluntly without looking at him. "I hope for more news tomorrow."

Rue put one foot outside when the elven apostate's voice stopped her at the doorway. "Inquisitor," he called softly, "this isn't your fault, either. Remember that."

Though Solas' words were meant to be a comfort, they stung like a needle to the chest. She considered what he said for only a moment before shaking her head and disappearing down the walkway.

* * *

Later that evening, Rue had resolved to drink herself into a stupor in her chambers. It began with three large goblets of red wine while she poured over several contracts and documents that Josephine had provided. The last one she looked at before completely draining her cup in frustration was a petition from numerous nobles in Val Royeaux, requesting that the Inquisitor investigate a potential serial killer in the area.

"Who do they think we are?" she asked no one as she threw the stack of names to the far side of her desk. "The city watch? I guess the holes in the sky only matter when they're directly overhead."

Rue stripped down to her small clothes—an oversized white tunic and braies—and surveyed her chambers. A fire had been lit several minutes ago by one of the serving maids, and the flames were now roaring gloriously in the hearth. The warmth gradually radiated through the room, staving off the biting chill of the night.

Seating herself on the plush crimson carpet before the fire, full goblet in hand, Rue stared at the dancing flames in the hearth and sullenly recalled the events of that morning. Her scowl deepened as she was visited with the image of Alassiel's trembling body, her fingernails reflexively digging into her silk sheets, faded brown strands damp with sweat and clinging to her pale face.

"Deshanna didn't want to send Alassiel away," came a gentle, sympathetic voice from behind.

Startled by the unexpectedness of the Ferelden accent, Rue wheeled around on her rear to find Cole sitting on the edge of her four-poster bed. He was tracing the golden brocade on her rich blue sheets with his finger.

"Good evening, Cole," Rue said derisively as she rubbed her temples with one hand. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were doing the thing I told you not to do." She grinned at him sarcastically as he slid off the bed and sauntered toward her.

"It's harder to help if I don't hear what's in your head," he responded matter-of-factly, sitting cross-legged on the carpet beside her.

Rue opened her mouth to argue the invasiveness of rooting around in peoples' minds, but found she didn't have the patience for it, not that night. Instead, she sighed and took another drink, staring back at the fire.

"One left, but two were lost," Cole continued, much to Rue's dismay. "She didn't want that, but she couldn't help Alassiel. It hurt her, too."

"I don't need this right now, Cole," Rue snapped sourly.

"Yes, you do." His blunt retort earned him a baneful glare from the Inquisitor. He seemed unfazed by her crossness, however, and continued speaking in that calm, kind voice.

"You're clutching so tightly to the blame. Like a blanket held over your head to hide from the other hurts—"

"I said, not now." Rue's tone was like a warning rattle from a venomous snake. She felt her heart beating faster, her rage mounting. The wine had significantly shortened her fuse, and if Cole didn't stop prying, she would surely lash out.

Unfortunately, Cole was being persistent. He saw the knot in her mind, the tight tangle that needed to be undone, but she held on to it with a strangling grip. He dug deeper in an effort to find a gentler place to tug.

" _Searching for the softness to make it all better. Giggles in the field, fistfuls of flowers, and for a moment, it was there. Why did she take it away?_ "

"Damnit, Cole!" Rue yelled, scrambling clumsily to her feet. Cole recoiled at her outburst and inched away. "I told you to stay _out of my head!_ What goes on in there is for me, and me alone! I'm not a broken wagon wheel that needs _'fixed'!_ I'm a _person! Why_ is this so hard for you to understand!"

In the peak of her rage, Rue slammed her goblet on the mantle of the fireplace before leaning against it, forcing herself to take several deep breaths.

She knew her anger was misplaced, that taking her frustration out on Cole had accomplished nothing other than hurt feelings. She regretted her eruption before long, and opened her mouth to apologize.

"I'm sorry," Cole spoke first after having gotten back to his feet. "I pulled too hard, and I tore it."

His apologetic voice dropped her blood pressure more quickly, and Rue gave a brief, choked laugh before glancing at the boy with the look of a weary parent. "Cole, I understand what you're trying to do. I appreciate it, even. But this—you can't help me with this."

"But—"

"No." Rue held up a stern hand. "I'm angry, Cole, and I need to be _allowed_ to be angry for a while." She saw his confused, even frustrated expression while he stared at the ground. He was clearly trying to understand _why_ he couldn't help the way he wanted, but it seemed to dance just outside his grasp.

She strode forth and placed motherly hands on Cole's shoulders, ducking underneath the rim of his hat to look into his eyes. For a moment, she felt like she was ten years old again, consoling an eight-year-old Alassiel. "You need to be okay with this. Just because you can't make it go away in an instant doesn't mean you've failed."

"But the hurt is still there," Cole argued. "It's big, and it's festering. How can I help if I can't—"

"Just be my friend, Cole. Knowing my friends care helps me a lot."

Cole shook his head. "I—I don't understand…"

"It's something for you to think about, then."

"…I will try."

When Rue gave him an approving smile, Cole's eyes suddenly lit up as though he had remembered something important. He fiddled with his ring finger before holding his hand out to Rue. "Here."

Rue quizzically looked into his open palm and inhaled sharply when she saw what he held. Her spinner ring! In the chaos that was the past few days, she had completely forgotten to ask him for it.

After a few moments of staring at her cousin's gift, she gingerly took the silver and red-gold ring from Cole's hand and slipped it onto her right thumb, where it belonged. As she slowly rocked the spinning silver band, hearing the soft sound of silver on gold, a broad smile spread across her lips.

"Thank you, Cole," she said quietly, looking back at him. " _This._ This helps."

Cole had his own satisfied smile at seeing and sensing her content. "I'm glad."

Rue then chuckled and returned to the mantle for her goblet. "See? That was easy, wasn't it?" She grabbed the pewter cup. "It's a good thing your fingers are so skinny, 'cause I don't think the ring would've—"

When she turned around, Rue was momentarily startled to find that Cole had gone. Vanished in a silent instant.

With furrowed brows, Rue uncorked a fresh bottle of wine. She wasn't sure if she could ever get over the boy's sudden appearing and disappearing. Taking her place in front of the fire once more, she spun her ring thoughtfully (with no bizarre trips to the Fade this time) and pondered on Cole and what he had said to her before she lashed out.

* * *

Not fifteen minutes after she had been left alone, however, she heard a subtle knock upon her door. Confused, she looked over to the stairs leading down to her chamber entrance.

"Come."

The sound of the latch moving and the door creaking open followed her command.

"Inquisitor?" It was Blackwall. His burly voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs before his heavy footfalls were heard. He emerged at the top of the steps, a look of concern on his bearded face upon seeing Rue slouched in front of the fire with a full bottle of wine beside her, and an empty bottle resting on the mantle.

"Wow, Cole wasn't exaggerating."

Rue blinked. "Cole?"

"Strangest thing," said Blackwall, striding into the room. "I had just finished cleaning up my workbench and was heading upstairs for some rest, when I spotted him perched up in the rafters like some barn owl! Scared the shit out of me!"

Rue laughed loudly and patted the carpeted ground beside her, inviting Blackwall to sit. "What was he doing up there?"

"Apart from trying to give me a heart-attack?" he joked before taking a seat. "He told me you needed to talk to me. Said you needed a friend."

Rue was quiet for a moment, looking down at the ring Cole had returned to her. "Did he, now? Well…that was good of him." She smiled warmly at Blackwall, grateful for both his company and Cole's considerate act. "How's your arm?"

"Much better," he said jauntily, slowly flexing it. "The stitches come out tomorrow, in fact. The healers here are really something. But enough about my little scratch; what seems to be plaguing you, My Lady?"

Another moment of thoughtful silence before another drink. "Nothing and everything, I suppose." She stared at her half-empty goblet, contemplating how to expound on the frothing emotions still inside.

"You're in luck. I just happen to be an expert on that subject," Blackwall jested.

His quip made Rue feel a bit better, so she shelved her juvenile anger at Deshanna in favor of other, more immediate concerns. "There's so much to prepare for, and even more to worry about," she said. "I'm worried about what we'll find in Crestwood and whether this Warden is on the level; I'm worried about the upcoming ball at the Winter Palace—and not _just_ because an empress' life is on the line; I'm worried about Alassiel, and this entire mess we had to deal with—that we're _still_ dealing with!"

"How do you mean?" Blackwall asked, watching Rue stand up and walk to the balcony that overlooked the rest of Skyhold.

She rested her hands on the cold stone bannister and stared at the courtyard down below, which was dark except for the lit torches lining the walls to guide drunken stragglers from the tavern back to their quarters. "Apart from some of my closest companions still needing to heal?" She gave Blackwall a somber sideways glance. "Alassiel's possession could cost the Inquisition greatly. My advisors are concerned about the rumors that've already spread throughout the barracks. If word leaves Skyhold…well, we could lose support like _that._ "

Rue snapped her fingers at the end of her sentence.

"Couldn't we run interference? Start a new rumor, perhaps?" Blackwall pushed himself to his feet and approached the doorway to the balcony, leaning his shoulder against the frame.

Rue laughed and turned around, cocking her head to the side. "You and our spymaster think alike. Leliana's already sent her people to spread a different rumor. We just have to wait and see if it takes root. If it does, we could potentially take this incident and turn it to our advantage."

"And the rumor is…?"

"Instead of possession, our spies are saying it was a curse. Since we have so much apostasy in this area, it's not so far-fetched to believe that Alassiel encountered a power-mad mage and was beset with a timed curse. Solas even says that one exists that can gradually whittle away a person's sanity. So, that's what we're going with."

Feeling like another drink, Rue strolled back into her quarters to grab her goblet. "It helps that the cured victim needs days to recover, just like Alassiel. So everything falls perfectly into place."

"This sounds like good news," said Blackwall as Rue refilled her cup.

"Like I said, we have to hope this rumor takes root," said Rue. "If it does, great. Josephine believes we can use word of 'the Inquisitor's cousin recovering from a curse' to garner sympathy and funds from some of our supporters. If it doesn't, we have a _lot_ of damage-control to do."

"I can see where you're feeling overwhelmed," Blackwall said with sympathy. "If there's anything I can do to help ease the pressure…well, I'm happy to be there for you."

Rue smiled and sauntered toward Blackwall with a bit more of a sway in her hips than she normally carried. She stopped when she stood mere inches from him, bright green eyes staring up affectionately into blue. "You help every day, Blackwall. Just by being here."

"That means a lot to hear, My Lady." Before their gaze could connect for too long, however, Blackwall cleared his throat. "So, are you going to drink the _entire_ rest of that bottle by yourself?"

Rue looked back at the bottle that now rested upon her desk. "That was the plan. Why? You looking for a nip?"

"I was thinking about it…"

"What'll you give me for it?" Rue grinned at him slyly.

As if expecting her response, Blackwall gently cupped her face with his gloved hands and gave her a tender kiss upon her forehead. His beard tickled her nose, and she couldn't keep her childish giggle to herself. Her cheeks flushed—more at herself than at Blackwall's kiss—and she narrowed her eyes at him in an effort to regain her composure.

"I suppose I'll accept that," she said with a smirk.

Rue poured another glass of wine for Blackwall, and the two spent the evening in front of the fire, discussing more entertaining topics: What Sera would do if she ever learned that Cole had been digging through her curiosities, what Leliana kept in that locked box in the rookery, and whether The Iron Bull was responsible for the head cook having trouble walking properly all last week. The evening carried on as such, until Rue finally passed out on Blackwall's shoulder in the middle of his story about fighting in the Grand Melee.

When he realized she was out cold, Blackwall snorted and stood, taking Rue's limp body in his arms. He laid her gently in her large feather bed and tucked her in under her silk sheets. Before leaving her to rest for the evening, he leaned in and gave her another gentle kiss upon the forehead.

* * *

Rue awoke late the next morning to a throbbing head and a dry mouth. The empty bottles from the night before were lined like trophies of regret upon the mantle across the room. She eyed them banefully as she stumbled out of bed, only to collapse on the sofa a few feet away.

That was when a delicate rapping could be heard upon the door downstairs.

"Come," Rue groaned as she draped her arm over her eyes to shield them from the sun that beamed invasively through the stained glass windows.

The door opened, and the sound of rapid clicking could be heard as a serving maid hurried up the stairs. Though the footfalls were soft, they were akin to drums pounding right next to Rue's head.

"Inquisitor?" the maid called after the sound of her shoes stopped right in front of the sofa.

Rue lifted her arm a little ways to acknowledge the young lady. In her hands was a small platter with a pitcher, a steaming tea kettle with a little cup, and a plate of fruit and cheeses. The sight made her stomach grumble; she hadn't eaten much the day before, and the hunger had caught up to her.

"Warden Blackwall suggested you would need your breakfast brought to you this morning," the maid said sweetly, pursing her lips to fight back her giggles as the Inquisitor covered her eyes again and groaned.

Truly, Blackwall was a gift from the gods.

"I'll just leave this here, then?" asked the maid in amusement, indicating the small marble table beside the sofa. Another groan and a nod of approval. "Very well—oh! Your advisors were wondering whether you were planning on joining them at the war table."

A less approving sound came from Rue. She had completely forgotten about the rescheduled war council, but felt more like diving head-first from her balcony than enduring a meeting with her headache.

"Shall I tell them no, then?"

A head shake.

"What if I told them, 'in an hour'?"

A nod.

"Very well. Enjoy your breakfast, then, Inquisitor."

Rue sat up when she heard her door gently close behind the serving maid. A cup of hot black tea and a few nibbles of smoky cheese gave her the strength and motivation to dig through her dresser for an appropriate tunic and trousers. After lacing up her boots and throwing on her lavender leather coat, she downed the entire pitcher of water and emptied the tea kettle's contents into it. Invigorated with fluid and armed with caffeinated tea, Rue marched down the stairs toward the war room; the sooner this was over, the better.

She met Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine outside the large wooden doors to the war room. All of them eyed her steaming porcelain pitcher and pained countenance with curiosity before Cullen pushed open the smaller door and stood aside for Rue.

Once inside, Leliana wasted little time in following up on the rumor she had her agents plant regarding Alassiel's possession. "Our efforts bore success, Inquisitor," she said with a satisfied grin. "As we speak, word around Skyhold is rapidly changing from ' _Abomination_ ' to 'poor little thing'. I wouldn't be surprised if your cousin started receiving fruit baskets and letters wishing her well."

"Good to hear," Rue practically croaked as she set her pitcher atop the war table and rubbed her eyes. "That'll make our lives a bit easier while we turn our attention to other matters."

Cullen gave a brief grunt, getting the attention of all three women. "Something on your mind, Commander?" Rue asked, a hand rubbing her temples.

He seemed reluctant to answer at first, but when prompted, he finally said, "I'm glad the outcome was so successful, but I'm not a fan of _lying_ to our people."

"I understand your displeasure, Commander, but we need the Inquisition united," Josephine argued delicately. "They _need_ to believe an Abomination can't simply slip in under our noses."

"Then we owe it to them not to let this happen again," Cullen interjected before turning to Rue. "Inquisitor, I know she's your cousin, but you need to consider the magnitude of what she nearly wrought."

"You think I haven't?" Rue crossed her arms defensively. "I saw firsthand the damage that was done. I know the stakes involved in having her here, and I won't let this happen again."

Cullen wasn't satisfied. "And how would you stop it? With all due respect, Inquisitor, I've seen what horrors Abominations are _truly_ capable of. We were lucky this time, but we can't afford for this sort of thing to—"

"What, exactly, are you suggesting, Commander?" Rue didn't like where this conversation was going.

"That you consider the well-being of everyone here, Inquisitor!" Cullen then lowered his voice as though he were worried that those outside might hear him. "This isn't easy to say, but the Rite of Tranquility exists for this very purpose. If she hasn't the will to resist demons, then she needs to have that connection severed."

Rue balled her hands into fists and paced about. Her hangover was pushing her rage over the edge, and she knew it. She took a deep breath and a large gulp of tea before responding to Cullen. "We'll find a way to solve this that won't magically and emotionally castrate my cousin, Commander. Please, just…trust me on this."

Cullen sighed and shook his head. "I pray you're right, Inquisitor."

It was then that the smaller door to the war room opened, startling everyone inside. Sister Madeleine peered in, her expression becoming apologetic when she realized she had interrupted. "Forgive me, Your Worship, but there was no answer when I knocked."

Rue waved her apology aside. "It's all right, Madeleine. Is something the matter?"

She shook her head emphatically. "No, Your Worship. In fact, just the opposite." She stepped into the room and folded her hands cordially in front of her. "Master Solas sent me to tell you. Your cousin is awake."


	9. The Reunion

**The Reunion**

Alassiel's chambers weren't as quiet as they were the last time Rue visited. The sound of Chantry Sisters fussing over the newly awakened young elf could be heard from outside. Rue even heard their bickering over the rapid thumping of her boots on the stone gallery floor.

"Put the gauze down, Clara! The dear must be hungry. She needs to be fed!"

"Not until we redress her wound. D'you want to risk an infection?"

"Would somebody _please_ fetch a water basin? I'm certain the Inquisitor would see her cleaned."

"Are all of you _really_ necessary for this?" Solas' indignant voice called over the others. "Where is Sister Madeleine? I asked for a bit of help, not a flock of silly red hats!"

Silence befell the room when Rue threw open the door. She stood, panting in the entryway, her stomach knotted like a fist in anticipation as five Chantry Sisters bowed their heads reverently and stood aside. A clear pathway was made for Rue to see the frail frame of Alassiel, comfortably seated in bed with the help of pillows propping her up against the headboard.

The toll possession had taken on her was distressingly easy to see. Her hair was extremely dark now, black as the bottom of an inkwell; its contrast to her pale skin made her look almost sickly. The sight might have terrified Rue, were it not for the lively spark in Alassiel's indigo eyes, reassuring her that her cousin wasn't on the verge of dying.

"Hello, Rue," came Alassiel's faltering voice, effectively ending the silence as both of them subsequently burst into tears.

With blurred vision, Rue ran past Solas and the Chantry Sisters and threw her arms around Alassiel in a tight embrace. Her cousin, her _best friend_ , was safe and sound in her arms. She could feel Alassiel's muscles tremble as she struggled to return the hug. Her cousin was so weak that her thin fingers were barely able to sustain their grip on Rue's jacket.

Breathing deeply in an effort to subdue her sobs, Rue pulled away and sat beside Alassiel on her bed. Their watery eyes met, and for a moment, neither cousin said anything; they were simply content to see each other alive.

Finally, Rue wiped her wet face and cleared her throat, striving to regain her composure. She tried to think of something—anything—to say, but her numb, hungover brain drew a blank, and instead she took a small bundle of Alassiel's black strands between her fingers.

"Da'len, your hair…" she muttered before emitting a small laugh. "Your mother's going to kill me."

Alassiel giggled weakly in return. "If this is the price for living, I'll take it." She tried to lift her hands to dry her eyes, but they felt like they were weighed down with lead, so Rue gently did it for her.

"Solas, why can she hardly move?" Rue asked as her thumb caressed her cousin's cheek.

An indignant scoff came from a particularly elderly Chantry Sister as Solas pushed past her. "Prolonged exposure to this specific _curse_ can have devastating effects on one's muscular control, Inquisitor," he said cordially. "It is nothing to worry about, however. She should fully recover in a few weeks. Sooner, if a healer can make a daily visit."

Rue caught his emphasis on the word "curse", a reminder that "possession" was not to be used around others in Skyhold.

Alassiel, however, was visibly confused; her brows furrowed as she looked back and forth between her cousin and Solas. "Is that what happened? A curse?"

This sent a flurry of concerned thoughts through Rue's mind. Alassiel didn't know about the lie. She didn't seem to realize that it _was_ a lie. Her look of complete bemusement made Rue wonder if she even remembered what happened. With all the Chantry Sisters in the room, however, none of them could talk about it.

She gave the five nearby women an authoritative look. "I would like some time alone with my cousin, please. Could you return in about ten minutes or so?"

They bowed respectfully and turned to leave when Solas piped up. "If I may, Inquisitor. Alassiel hasn't eaten in several days. Perhaps you should allow them to care for her, and we can discuss recovery details outside." His eyes indicated insistence, and Rue nodded in agreement.

"Very well. Ladies, I'm trusting you to treat this one like gold, understand?" The Chantry Sisters giggled and nodded as Rue turned her smiling attention to Alassiel, who was opening her mouth to protest. "Listen, you're in good hands here. I'll be back soon, but in the meantime, I want you to do as they say, all right?"

Alassiel pouted her lower lip like a fussy child, clearly disappointed that her cousin was going to leave her alone so soon. She gave a small nod in compliance, however, and was soon set upon by the five doting women as Rue and the apostate left the room.

"How fortunate she is to be the cousin of the Herald of Andraste," Solas mused after Rue shut the door behind them. "Even if it means being smothered by a gaggle of clucking old hens."

Rue grinned and leaned against the stone banister that overlooked the Chantry Garden, wiping the last remnants of her joyful tears as she did so. "I could think of worse things to be surrounded by."

"Indeed."

"She doesn't seem to remember being possessed. Is that normal?"

Solas nodded. "The amnesia is only temporary, however. She will gradually remember the details of her possession, and we should be prepared for when that happens."

Rue frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Even the gentlest of people commit heinous acts while possessed. Alassiel will be no exception. The demon had control of her for quite some time, Inquisitor; long enough to harm or even _kill_ anyone who might have gotten in her way while she searched for you, and it is very likely that she did."

His grave words made Rue's heart sink. She gave her ring only two contemplative spins before frustration took over, and she balled her hand into a tight fist on the banister. "This isn't going to help her case with the others," she muttered.

"In what way?"

"Cassandra and Cullen believe Alassiel should be made Tranquil. I'm sure others in our circle would share that opinion if they knew."

Solas clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Of course they would. Better your cousin lose her magic, her dreams, and herself than have an opportunity to _learn_ from her mistake, like any child. But it would be too much to ask the Chantry to see her as such, wouldn't it?" His disgust steadily mounted as he spoke. "As with any mage, she is seen as little more than a rusted tool, or a bit of fruit that has spoiled; throw it away and give it no more thought!"

He realized that his voice and temper were escalating and fell silent. He rested his arms on the stone parapet and took a deep breath to calm himself. "Forgive me. I find the entire concept of Tranquility to be... _vexing._ "

Despite his anger, Solas' statement brought a smile to Rue's face. "I'm glad _someone's_ on my side on this."

For a time, Solas didn't respond. His gaze was following Mother Giselle in the Chantry Garden below, who seemed to be consoling a young red-headed woman on the brink of tears. He sighed after Giselle placed a hand on the now crying girl's shoulder and delicately kissed her forehead.

"Your cousin has a gift, Inquisitor," he said, looking back at Rue. "She is a medium, a _healer_ , and we can ill-afford to lose those in times like these."

The apostate turned from the stone parapet to face Rue, a look of resolve in his eyes. "If it pleases you, I would mentor her. I am confident that, with my help, she can learn to communicate safely with spirits and overcome the illusions of demons in the Fade."

Rue blinked several times at Solas, hardly daring to believe what she just heard. "You'd do that?"

He smiled warmly. "You have been a good friend, Inquisitor. When I needed to save my friend from the mages who bound her, you helped without question. I can hardly leave you to deal with this alone, not when there's something I can do."

In mere moments, Rue went from despair, to surprise, to absolute joy. It was as though the entire weight of the world had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. "Solas, I…I don't know what to—you have no idea how much this means!" She gave no warning before throwing her arms around his middle and giving him an energetic squeeze. "This could solve everything! How can I thank you enough?"

The sudden display of gratitude startled Solas, but he recovered quickly and gave an awkward pat on her back. "Saving the world would be an excellent start, Inquisitor," he said with a mild chuckle.

* * *

Once the Chantry Sisters had finished feeding, washing, and bandaging their patient, they bustled from the room to give her some privacy with Rue and Solas. Alassiel's hair was now damp and clean—making the points of her elven ears more visible—and she had been given a fresh nightgown to wear. She looked less sickly than before, and even exuded a healthy excitement when Rue and Solas entered.

Rue sat on the bed beside her, and her nose was immediately hit with the overwhelming scent of lavender and chamomile. "Wow!" she exclaimed, wafting her hand in front of her to lessen the smell. "You think they got you clean enough?"

"Yes, I know," said Alassiel sheepishly. "They went a bit crazy with the scented soaps. Stay away from my hair; it smells like someone threw a bunch of flowers in a mortar and smashed them. They're nice ladies, though."

Rue's smile faded and was replaced with a grim look as Solas took a seat in the chair beside Alassiel's bed. "Listen, da'len," she said softly. "We need to talk about what happened to you; what _really_ happened."

Alassiel's expression gradually changed from entertained to horrified as they explained how she hadn't been cursed, but, in fact, possessed. They told of her arrival, her unusual behavior, the exorcism of the demon, and how she had most likely been possessed for several months. Her mouth was agape, and her hands were shaking by the time they finished.

"No…this can't be right. It can't! Rue, I…I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" She gave her cousin a desperate look, afraid of what the answer might be.

Rue hesitated for a moment too long, and Alassiel broke into a fit of sobs in front of her. Alarmed, she gathered her cousin in her arms and began to rock her side to side, dutifully stifling a gag reflex as an intoxicating blend of flora assaulted her senses. "It's all right, Alassiel. There was… _some_ fighting, yeah, but everyone's fine. _You_ didn't do anything wrong…"

This did not comfort the elven mage, and her sobs immediately escalated into muffled wailing as she buried her face in Rue's tunic. Solas could be seen shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the Inquisitor spent the next few minutes soothing Alassiel, reassuring her that, yes, everyone was truly okay, and no, she didn't kill any kittens, weasels, rabbits, or any other small animals while possessed.

She continued to rock and hush Alassiel until her crying was reduced to quiet sniffles. Once she had calmed down, Rue released her and gingerly leaned her back onto the pile of pillows by the headboard.

"Is there nothing you remember about the past few months, da'len?" Solas prodded in a gentle tone.

Alassiel shook her head sadly. "There…there are pictures in my mind, but they're so distant and faded—it's like a dream you know is there, but can't quite remember." She bit her lip to hold back more tears. "I'm sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen. This is why I was taken to a Circle in the first place!"

Rue gently stroked Alassiel's hair. "It's going to be okay," she whispered soothingly. "Solas and I have a plan to help you."

This made Alassiel's eyes light up with hope. "Really? What is it? Whatever it is, I'm ready to do it!"

Solas chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm. "Perhaps in a few weeks," he said cordially. "There is no denying your need for tutelage, however. I am well-versed in matters of the Fade, and I can help you use your gifts safely. As a medium, you are both gifted and vulnerable, but I believe you know that now."

Alassiel gave him a resigned look before staring down at her hands, which were kneading her blue silk sheets. "How did you know I was a medium?" she asked with curiosity moments later.

"The Inquisitor _might_ have told a tale or two about when you were both children." Solas said with a knowing grin.

An accusing glare was shot in Rue's direction. "What?" she asked defensively, taken aback by her cousin's scrutinizing gaze. "I only told them the relevant stuff! It's not like I mentioned that time you ran around camp in nothing but—look, point is, once your strength is back, you'll apprentice to Solas, understand? He's willing to help you get your powers under control."

Alassiel's attention returned to the apostate, her expression shifting to a mixture of gratitude and determination. "Of course! I'll do whatever it takes! I don't want to stop speaking with my friends, but this…" she glanced down at the hands she could barely move. "This can't happen again. If you can really help me with this, Solas, I'll do whatever's asked of me."

This prompted a warm smile from the apostate. "Ma nuvenin dirthara. Dar serannas, da'len."


	10. Memories Surface

**Memories Surface**

The Undercroft was alive with the rhythmic pounding of heavy hammers on hot steel on anvil. Harritt's apprentices were hard at work, tending to the weapons of the Inquisition soldiers while he poured over his well-used workbench with Inquisitor Lavellan. Upon its worn wooden surface lay the shattered fragments of Paprika, Rue's rusty red drakestone dagger that had been snapped in half by Desire. A week after her cousin had awoken, Rue was finally able to locate both pieces in the snowy clearing in which she had fought the demon.

"Hmm, this is some major damage 'ere, Inquisitor," Harritt mumbled grimly as he inspected both pieces of Rue's dagger. "Broke down nearly to th' hilt. Repairin' it's gonna be tough."

"You _will_ be able to repair it, though, right?" Rue asked, looking like the concerned parent of a sick child.

Harritt sighed and set the fragments back on the work bench. "We can _do_ it, Inquisitor, but I dunno know why you'd bother. The integrity won't be the same, and it'd break more easily in th' future." He stroked his ginger mustache thoughtfully. "Why don't you let us make you a new dagger? Somethin' better."

"I don't want _something better,_ " Rue argued, pointing at the pieces of her weapon, "I want _this_ one fixed. I've had Paprika since I was made Second Scout of my clan. There's a lot of history in that dagger, and I'd like it repaired."

Pepper and Paprika represented the precious few happy memories of Rue's youth after Alassiel was taken from her; the solitude of the wilds, miles from her camp; the thrill of tracking and stalking a young august ram before slinking in for the kill; occasionally, even the friendly competition between herself and other hunters (whoever skewered the apple with their dagger from the farthest distance would win). She wasn't ready to lose that.

"It's just a dagger, Inquisitor," said Harritt, failing to contain a chuckle.

"Yes, of course," she retorted dryly, narrowing her eyes at the blacksmith. "Just a dagger. If only it were something important _—_ something worth running into a _burning building_ for. Say, perhaps…a _hammer_."

There was a moment of silence as Harritt chewed the inside of his mouth with a frown. "Point taken, Your Worship. I'll see what we can do."

Rue perked up immediately and clapped Harritt on the shoulder with appreciation. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'll be back in a few days to check on its progress."

She turned cheerfully on her heels and headed up the stone stairs to leave the Undercroft, stopping halfway to call over her shoulder, "Oh, and keep an eye out for a bottle of that Antivan Sip-Sip you like so much. I _may_ have had Josephine order some as a thank-you."

Harritt's laugh echoed off of the old stone walls of the Undercroft, earning him a few curious glances from his young apprentices. It became clear to him that Rue hadn't intended on leaving with "no" for an answer. "Ya hear that, boys?" he bellowed. "The Inquisitor'll have a nice gift for us if we fix that rusty toothpick she calls a dagger!" He gave an enthusiastic salute with his fist over his heart, and most of the men in his service followed suit.

When Rue opened the Undercroft door, her smile turned into a shrill yelp as she nearly bumped noses with Sister Madeleine. She would have tumbled back down the stairs in her alarm if it weren't for the old wooden handrails jutting from the stone wall.

"Your Worship!" Madeleine cried in surprise as the Inquisitor regained her footing at the edge of the stairs. "Forgive me! I…didn't mean to nearly send you cartwheeling back to Lord Harritt."

Rue laughed and waved away Madeleine's apology. "No, it's fine." She then stood aside for the Chantry Sister to pass. "Please."

"Actually, Inquisitor, I came for you."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows in interest. "What needs my attention today?"

"Young Lady Lavellan does, I think."

There was some hesitation before Sister Madeleine answered, and Rue's light-hearted curiosity was replaced with mild concern. She folded her arms. "What's going on now?"

"Erm…" After another brief pause, Madeleine indicated a nearby set of stools in the great hall. "Why don't we have a seat?"

* * *

"Fen'Harel ma ghilana, da'len! What _is_ this?" Rue took a now cold porcelain bowl of porridge from the desk beside her and held it up for her little cousin to see.

Alassiel, still bed-ridden and dependent on pillows to prop her up, opened and closed her mouth wordlessly at the shock of Rue's unexpected entrance and abrupt use of elven. She kneaded her bedsheets with weak fingers while stern green eyes bore into her from across the room.

"I'm…not hungry," she meekly answered at last, looking down at the stitches the back of her left hand to escape the harsh gaze. Although she did her best to hide it, she had the look of a puppy that had been caught doing something wrong.

Rue scoffed. "Really? 'Not hungry'? Because I heard the most interesting story from Sister Madeleine a few minutes ago." She dropped the bowl back onto the desk with a loud clatter and paced about the room, her hands on her hips. "Refusing food for three whole days? Screaming at Chantry Sisters when they call you on your crap? Threatening to _bite_ Sister Amandine?"

"I wasn't really going to bite her!"

"I know you weren't!" Rue sighed and rubbed her temples with her thumb and forefinger. "But that's beside the point. What's going on with you?"

Rue could see the water building up in Alassiel's eyes when their gazes briefly met, but stood strong and continued with her iron stare.

"I told you. I'm not—"

"Venavis, Alassiel!" Rue interjected. She rounded on her cousin and pointed reproachfully at her. Though Alassiel's lower lip was quivering, Rue didn't back down. "Just…stop. You're starving yourself, and it's obvious. Why? Why are you refusing to eat?"

"I…I…Rue…" Cornered, caught without an escape, Alassiel took a shuddering breath before tears began to stream down her cheeks.

The helplessness in Alassiel's eyes crushed the remnants of Rue's conviction. She lowered her hand and strode to her cousin's side, kneeling at the foot of her bed. "Alassiel?"

"Someone…someone's lying dead on top of an old rug by his fireplace. And I…" Her words began to mix unintelligibly with choked sobs, but before melting down completely, she managed to utter the words, "I'm the one who killed him!"


	11. The Wound Ball of Hurt

**The Wound Ball of Hurt**

Rue's insides went numb. The statement was so sudden that it slapped her with an overwhelming mixture of shock and confusion, and she found herself unable to respond at first.

At last, she gave a nervous chuckle. "What are you talking about? What makes you think you killed someone?" No sooner had she uttered her last question than something Solas said before slowly crawled to the front of her mind like a vile, venomous spider.

 _"She will gradually remember the details of her possession, and we should be prepared for when that happens…_ _Even the gentlest of people commit heinous acts while possessed. Alassiel will be no exception."_

The memory of his words made Rue feel sick, but she fought the churning in her gut and did her best to focus instead on her distraught cousin. When she extended a hand to wipe Alassiel's tears, however, her cousin fervently shook her head and leaned away.

"Alassiel, this is ridiculous," Rue stated in an effort to reassert sense into the situation. "You couldn't have killed someone. Not you. Mythal's mercy, you cried when that rabbit was crushed under the wheel of one of our aravels when we were kids!"

"No," Alassiel whimpered dejectedly. "I can see it in my dreams, Rue. I remember. And more comes to me every day now." She stared at Rue with the frightened, desperate look of someone confessing to a crime. "I don't know how far Desire dragged my body to find you, but it was nightfall when she found the farmstead. There was an old man outside. He saw me alone in the dark and beckoned kindly; he had such a warm smile…"

Alassiel's voice began to falter. Her gaze drifted into the distance as she recalled the moments in her memory. "Rue, he…he had no idea what he invited into his home. She— _I_ crept up while he had his back to me, stoking the fire. There's a knife in my hand…I took it from the kitchen…Mythal help me, I'm going to kill him!"

She clenched her teeth, and her words became choked. "The knife is stuck inside…there's red everywhere, and he's staring at me from the ground. He doesn't understand! I don't either, but I'm smiling so much that it hurts!"

Before Alassiel could say anymore, Rue, horrified, scrambled to the bed and took her cousin tightly into her arms. "It's all right, da'len. It's all right," she whispered desperately to herself as much as Alassiel. "That wasn't you. It was the demon. I told you before— _you_ didn't do anything wrong."

"Rue, I _killed_ someone!"

" _No!_ " Rue argued firmly, cupping Alassiel's face in her hands. "Look at me! You're punishing yourself for something some… _thing_ did with your body! Enough! _Eat_ something! Please!"

Alassiel shook her head defiantly, and Rue felt her concern flair into frustration.

"Alassiel Sharanni Lavellan! I will force-feed you myself if I have to! I will _not_ let you kill yourself over this! Not after all my companions and I went through to save you!"

The younger elf would hear none of it, however. She simply turned from Rue and stared at the wall beside her, lips pressed firmly together to stifle more sobs.

Exasperation building to a breaking point, Rue pushed herself from the bed with an angry growl and stomped toward the door. Taking the brass knob in her hand, she glanced at the bowl of porridge on the nearby desk and considered it.

She could do it, force Alassiel to eat. She was too weak to fight back, after all. Besides, some food in her belly could help her think straight and realize how silly the whole thing was. Who's to say she was even reliving a memory? It could just be a persistent nightmare from the Fade, and she could be hurting herself over nothing.

In the end, however, Rue couldn't bring herself to strong-arm her little cousin into eating. Defeated, she opened the door and slammed it behind her before leaning on the parapet in front of her and taking several deep breaths in an effort to clear her head. Though the midday summer sun was shining brightly, the cold air from the snowcapped mountains around Skyhold kept the breeze cool and invigorating.

It calmed her somewhat, enabling her to take the time to better absorb Alassiel's story.

"Was it not as I said?"

Rue looked over her shoulder to see Solas striding toward her, hands folded cordially behind his back. She sighed wearily and nodded, rubbing the back of her neck. "She believes she killed someone. An old man. Says she sees it in her dreams."

"Then it is very likely she did."

"She's not eating, Solas."

"Would you, after realizing your hands were once covered with the blood of an innocent man?"

"It wasn't _her,_ though! She was _possessed!_ "

"That's a very easy thing to say when you're not the one reliving the same horrific scene every night."

Rue knew he had a point, that Alassiel's feelings of guilt were valid, but that didn't stop her from eyeing the apostate sourly. "We can't let her starve herself to death over this."

"I never said we would," Solas answered, his countenance growing stern. "She needs time to grieve, Inquisitor. For herself _and_ for the man she killed. This is a time for gentle, guiding words, not castigation from her own cousin."

His tone echoed that of a Dalish Keeper scolding a petulant young elf, and Rue felt the weight of guilt instantly. She opened her mouth to apologize, but was interrupted from behind by a quiet Fereldan accent.

"The memories are choking her, though."

Rue, desensitized to Cole's sudden appearances, merely flinched in mild surprise before turning around to face the boy sitting on the stone bannister. He seemed rather discontented as he hopped from his perch and stared at the door to Alassiel's quarters. "Time is making it worse, not better. She's not eating. She wants to die."

"She's just upset, Cole," said Rue. "Solas is right. She needs time to come to grips with what happened."

"But I can help her _now,_ " Cole argued with conviction. "I could make her forget. No memory of murder, no choking in the chest. She'll eat again."

Rue needed only a second to process Cole's suggestion.

"No."

"But—"

"That's not how this works, Cole, and you know it. You can't just _erase_ someone's past mistake and make it all better. If she _did_ kill someone, that man is still dead; she needs to deal with this and work past it." As Rue spoke, she recognized the expression the boy gave. It was the same disgruntled look he had when denied his method of "helping" people without understanding. He seemed particularly unhappy this time.

"Cole, listen to me," said Solas. "If you remove Alassiel's memory of that night, she may be relieved of the guilt, but the terrible consequences of possession would be lost on her. She _needs_ to remember so that no more innocent people are harmed by her. Do you understand?"

Cole stared sullenly at the stone floor beneath his feet. "No," he murmured. "The memory hurts her. It weighs on her chest like stone. _Blood blooming on the cotton carpet, cloudy eyes staring up in shock. Chest tight with grief. I want to cry, but I can't. My mouth hurts, I'm smiling so much…_ "

He looked desperately between Rue and Solas. "I want to help, but all I can do is take it away."

Rue shook her head. "Do you remember what I said to you the last time you came to me?" she asked as she placed a hand on Cole's shoulder. "If you truly want to help, treat her like a _person,_ Cole. Talk to her. You were with Alassiel in the Fade. _You_ pulled her out; you might be able to connect with her in a way that even _I_ can't."

It pained her greatly to admit that, but it was true. Rue couldn't understand what her cousin was going through, but perhaps a spirit of Compassion could…

* * *

Tears dotted white blankets with dark stains as Alassiel wept. Her stomach was knotted like an angry fist, but she continued to ignore it. The grey, scared eyes of the dying man on the floor in her memories made her feel too nauseous to eat, and the mere sight of the bowl of porridge upon the desk was a constant reminder of that feeling.

At least it would have been, if it were still there.

Alassiel's whole body went rigid upon realizing that the bowl was gone. That was when she noticed it: The shadow looming over her.

She gripped her blankets with her good hand in fear. The sensation of eyes upon her made her breath catch in her chest; someone was standing right beside the bed, mere inches away.

How long had he been there?

Seized with panic, she slowly turned her head to face the owner of the shadow.

Her eyes met those of a pale young man with a gaunt face. The large, leather rim of his unusual hat cast shadows that gave him an almost sickly look. Stray strands of pale blonde hair partially obscure his eyes (the boy needed a haircut). Despite the alarm of his sudden appearance, Alassiel was struck with a comforting sensation of recognition. She furrowed her brows with interest, and for a long time, neither of them said anything.

Finally, the strange young man spoke. "You need to eat," he said bluntly. In his half-gloved hands was the bowl of porridge.

Alassiel's eyes flickered between the man and the bowl. Ultimately, she refused to acknowledge his statement and chose instead to address his familiarity. "I know you," she said slowly as the boy sat beside her.

Looking at him made her tingle around her ears, neck, and fingertips. He carried traces of the Fade with him. A spirit? No, that wasn't quite right…

"Yes," he answered, though Alassiel wasn't sure at first which "yes" it was. He lifted a spoonful of porridge to Alassiel's face. "I found you in the Fade. We escaped, but you had to find a lot of you first. It was hard, but you grew and kept going. It was good that you didn't give up."

Her eyes shot open. "Of course!" she cried without warning, suddenly brimming with excitement and dodging the spoon. "I remember you! It's all so hazy, but you're there! You helped expel the demon! You…" Alassiel's voice trailed off as she fully realized who he was. "You saved me, Cole."

Simultaneously surprised and delighted that she remembered him, Cole lit up like an excited child. "Yes! I helped, anyway. _You_ saved you, though."

Sensing comfort in Alassiel, he tried once again to position the spoon in front of her mouth. Surely, she was ready to eat.

To his bafflement, however, she merely looked at it with a frown, and he could hear the frothing of bitter self-loathing in her chest again.

Cole dropped the spoon back into the bowl and stared at the stubborn elf in contemplation. She was clutching her wound ball of guilt and sorrow with a grip that reminded him of Rue. It was a tangled mess of remorse that had been left to grow and fester for years. The old man made the ball too heavy to bear, but he was merely the outer thread. There was a core of hurt inside, and Cole needed to pull very gently to dig it out.

"You're wrong, you know."

In the short time Alassiel had known Cole in the Fade, she hadn't exactly associated him with specificity, but the vagueness of that statement intrigued her enough to eye him quizzically. "Wrong about what?"

"You see the dying man on the floor and think that's all there is. _Weak and weedy, a tiresome waste. Worse, dangerous! What if it happens again? All I am—all I will be—is hurt and death. I can't stop it, so it might as well end._ But that's not true."

Alassiel shook her head. "Cole, I couldn't stop it. If I can't fight, if I can't see past the illusions and resist the demons, what _good_ am I?"

"But you _can_ fight, Alassiel. I saw it— _heard_ it! You fought for me when Desire wanted me dead." Alassiel looked somewhat dumbfounded at his words, and the sight made Cole smile. He had picked past the outer threads, found a knot near the core and gently pulled. It was still so tight, but doubt had slackened it. A bit more…

"It's hard to explain, but…I was frozen all over, the cold like lances in my lungs. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die, but then…it all melted away. I heard you, a murmur in Desire's frantic mind. Frail, but furious. _Who is that? What are you doing? No! Enough! I won't let you hurt that man! No more! Not again!_ "

It was like watching a child struggle to fit a puzzle piece together; Cole could see Alassiel pushing through the mental haze, teeth digging into her lower lip as her mind raced. Almost there…

"You were so angry. Desire couldn't pull from the Fade _and_ keep you locked in it. She couldn't hurt me or Rue or Solas. Not the way she wanted to. She lost control, and we could stop her. Because of you."

Alassiel's jaw went slack, and she stared at Cole with a budding understanding. "I remember that," she breathed. "She was going to kill everyone, even Rue. She hated you; she was sure you would see through her and ruin everything. And if Desire couldn't have Rue, no one would. I couldn't let anyone else die, so I…" she turned her palm over and stared at the stitches that would become a sizeable scar. A choked laugh escaped her lips. "I threw the biggest fit I could."

Cole's smile broadened. The ball of hurt had been pulled loose, threads falling away, limp and harmless. The core was still there, but it was smaller, more manageable. It felt good to see that.

"I can't let this happen again," Alassiel whispered more to herself than to Cole, still gazing keenly at her wound.

A delicate clinking sound drew her attention back to Cole, however, and she glanced up to see him patiently holding out the spoonful of porridge once more.

"Then don't," he replied simply.

Alassiel glanced from the spoon to Cole and back. She gave a small sigh, and opened her mouth.

It was unpleasant enough to endure a spoon thrust to the back of the throat from someone who had never eaten before, much less _fed_ another person, but the fact that the porridge was room temperature made it even worse. Alassiel winced at the sticky clump of oats in her mouth and struggled to swallow.

"Sorry," said Cole upon seeing her pained expression. "I'll try pushing a little less."

"It's not that—well, not _just_ that. It's awfully cold, but I have no one to blame but myself, I suppose."

"Porridge shouldn't mind being eaten. Maybe we could ask it to be less cold." The utter sincerity in Cole's suggestion made Alassiel laugh.

"I wish it worked like that," she said with a smile—the first smile she'd had since the nightmares started.

* * *

The next half hour was spent forcing food down and exchanging questions and answers about one another. Alassiel was interested in Cole's unique nature and abilities, and Cole was, in turn, equally intrigued by her. Unlike the persona presented by Desire, the real Alassiel was rather open and curious, if not a bit talkative. Her talent for seeing spirits through the Veil reminded Cole strongly of Rhys, which gave him comfort.

Once the bowl of porridge was empty, Cole stood and politely said good-bye to Alassiel. He made to leave, but stopped at the door when she asked, "Do you think you could come again tomorrow?"

He glanced back curiously at the hopeful-looking elf. After a moment's thought, he answered, "I don't know. Maybe."

Alassiel smiled. "I would like it if you could. This was nice."

Cole beamed at her words. "It was? That's good to hear. I will try, then."

With that, he left Alassiel's quarters and shut the door gently behind him. There was a warm feeling in his chest as he processed his exchange with her. She was happier now, soothed and strengthened with his help. What's more, she was glad to know him! Like Rue, Solas, and Varric, she wanted him to be. He fit in her reality, and it felt nice, like Rhys.

"Hey."

Cole jumped at the unexpected voice behind him.

Rue, who had been leaning against the stone wall by Alassiel's door, laughed at having actually startled the young man. This was a rare treat for her, and she savored the moment. "Now you know how the rest of us feel when you do that."

Cole cocked his head. "You feel like being forgotten before someone can hurt you?"

The Inquisitor just shook her head at his question, a wide smile on her face. "I wanted to thank you for doing that. For talking to her, and…you know, _not_ wiping her memory."

"It was hard at first," Cole admitted. "She held on to her sadness almost as tightly as you do yours. I didn't think she'd want to listen."

Rue let out a sigh. "I know it's hard, and I know she's not better yet, but—"

"She will be," Cole finished with his own smile, which caught Rue off guard.

She laughed. "…Yeah, she will be."

 _Author's Note: Good god, am I glad to be finished with this chapter/segment. It was incredibly difficult to write (I blame the boy) and made for many revisions, and even now, I'm iffy on it. Ever forward, however, and I hope to have the next chapter up in a more timely manner. Questions or comments? Feel free to write me. In the mean time, thank you for your support, and have a fabulous week._


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